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The Poetical Works of the late Christopher Anstey

With Some Account of the Life and Writings of the Author, By his son, John Anstey

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O the charming party's made!
Some to walk the south Parade,
Some to Lincomb's shady groves,
Or to Simpson's proud alcoves;
Some for chapel trip away,
Then take places for the play;
Or we walk about in pattens,
Buying gauzes, cheap'ning sattins:
Or to Painter's we repair,
Meet Sir Peregrine Hatchet there,
Pleas'd the artist's skill to trace
In his dear Miss Gorgon's face:
Happy pair! who fix'd as fate
For the sweet connubial state,
Smile in canvass tête-à-tête.


If the weather, cold and chill,
Calls us all to Mr. Gill,
Romeo hands to me the jelly,
Or the soup of vermicelli:
If at Toyshop I step in,
He presents a diamond pin;
Sweetest token I can wear,
Which at once may grace my hair,
And in witness of my flame,
Teach the glass to bear his name:
See him turn each trinket over,
If for me he can discover
Aught his passion to reveal,
Emblematic ring or seal,
Cupid whetting pointed darts,
For a pair of tender hearts;
Hymen lighting sacred fires,
Types of chaste and fond desires.
Thus enjoy we ev'ry blessing,
Till the toilet calls to dressing;
Where's my garnet, cap, and sprig?
Send for Singe to dress my wig:


Bring my silver'd mazarine,
Sweetest gown that e'er was seen:
Tabitha, put on my ruff:
Where's my dear delightful muff?
Muff, my faithful Romeo's present!
Tippet too from tail of pheasant!
Muff from downy breast of swan!
O the dear enchanting man!
Muff that makes me think how Jove
Flew to Leda from above—
Muff that—Tabby, see who rapt then.
“Madam, Madam, 'tis the Captain!”
Sure his voice I hear below,
'Tis, it is my Romeo!
Shape and gait, and careless air,
Diamond ring, and solitaire,
Birth and fashion all declare.
How his eyes, that gently roll,
Speak the language of his soul!
See the dimple on his cheek,
See him smile and sweetly speak;


“Lovely nymph, at your command,
“I have something in my hand,
“Which I hope you'll not refuse,
“'Twill us both at night amuse:
“What tho' Lady Whisker crave it,
“And Miss Badger longs to have it,
“'Tis, by Jupiter I swear,
“'Tis for you alone, my dear:
“See this ticket, gentle maid,
“At your feet an offering laid:
“Thee the loves and graces call
“To a little private ball:
“And to play I bid adieu,
“Hazard, lansquenet, and loo,
“Fairest nymph, to dance with you.”
—I with joy accept his ticket,
And upon my bosom stick it:
Well I know how Romeo dances,
With what air he first advances,
With what grace his gloves he draws on,
Claps, and calls up Nancy Dawson;


Me thro' ev'ry dance conducting,
And the music oft instructing;
See him tap, the time to shew,
With his light fantastic toe;
Skill'd in ev'ry art to please,
From the fan to waft the breeze,
Or his bottle to produce,
Fill'd with pungent Eau de Luce.
Wonder not, my friend, I go
To the ball with Romeo.