 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
229
The Dedication to Manlius.
Accept this Present from the Muses hand,
Who in such Numbers sung at your command;
Advent'rously essaying to rehearse,
In the gay Records of a sportive Verse;
The Acts of gentle Knights, and Damsels fair,
Who rose by six, to take the Morning Air.
What tho' in harmless Raillery she plays,
And seems a Satyr in the laughing Lays;
Yet let them not offend, or Belle, or Beau;
These Lines from Mirth, and not Ill-nature flow.
Perhaps Sobrina thinks me rough at best,
Pshaw! Madam all I said was but in Jest:
We Poets are a modest, well-bred Race,
Who ne'er offend a Lady to her Face;
And when a Face is so extremely pretty,
Who will not say, the Owner on't is witty?
Belles have no Faults, or we no Faults must see,
Such are the Laws of Love and Gallantry.
Who in such Numbers sung at your command;
Advent'rously essaying to rehearse,
In the gay Records of a sportive Verse;
The Acts of gentle Knights, and Damsels fair,
Who rose by six, to take the Morning Air.
What tho' in harmless Raillery she plays,
And seems a Satyr in the laughing Lays;
Yet let them not offend, or Belle, or Beau;
These Lines from Mirth, and not Ill-nature flow.
Perhaps Sobrina thinks me rough at best,
Pshaw! Madam all I said was but in Jest:
We Poets are a modest, well-bred Race,
Who ne'er offend a Lady to her Face;
230
Who will not say, the Owner on't is witty?
Belles have no Faults, or we no Faults must see,
Such are the Laws of Love and Gallantry.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |