 | Poems on several occasions |  |
221
THE BEAU MONDE,
OR THE Pleasures of St. James's. A BALLAD.
Oh! St. James's is a lovely Place,
'Tis better than the City;
For there are Balls and Operas,
And ev'ry Thing that's pretty.
'Tis better than the City;
For there are Balls and Operas,
And ev'ry Thing that's pretty.
222
There's little Lady Cuzzoni,
And bouncing Dame Faustina,
The Duce a Bit will either Sing
Unless they're each a Queen—a.
And bouncing Dame Faustina,
The Duce a Bit will either Sing
Unless they're each a Queen—a.
And when we've ek'd out History,
And made them Rival Queens,
They'll warble sweetly on the Stage,
And scold behind the Scenes:
And made them Rival Queens,
They'll warble sweetly on the Stage,
And scold behind the Scenes:
When having fill'd their Pockets full,
No longer can they stay;
But turn their Backs upon the Town,
And scamper all away.
No longer can they stay;
But turn their Backs upon the Town,
And scamper all away.
The Belles and Beaux cry after them,
With all their might and main;
And Heidegger is sent in haste
To fetch 'em back again.
With all their might and main;
And Heidegger is sent in haste
To fetch 'em back again.
223
Then Hey! for a Subscription
To th'Opera, or the Ball;
The Silver Ticket wags about
Until there comes a Call.
To th'Opera, or the Ball;
The Silver Ticket wags about
Until there comes a Call.
This puts them into doleful Dumps,
Who were both blith and Gay;
There's nothing spoils Diversion more
Than telling what's to pay.
Who were both blith and Gay;
There's nothing spoils Diversion more
Than telling what's to pay.
Oh! there's Miss Polly Peachum Lugs
Our Nobles by the Ears,
'Till Ponder Well by far Exceeds
The Musick of the Spheres.
Our Nobles by the Ears,
'Till Ponder Well by far Exceeds
The Musick of the Spheres.
When lo! to show the Wisdom Great
Of London's famous Town,
We set her up above her self,
And then we take her down.
Of London's famous Town,
We set her up above her self,
And then we take her down.
224
And, there's your Beaux, with powder'd Cloaths,
Bedaub'd from Head to Shin;
Their Pocket-holes adorn'd with Gold,
But not a souse within:
Bedaub'd from Head to Shin;
Their Pocket-holes adorn'd with Gold,
But not a souse within:
And there's your pretty Gentlemen,
All dress'd in Silk and Sattin;
That get a spice of ev'ry Thing,
Excepting Sense and Latin.
All dress'd in Silk and Sattin;
That get a spice of ev'ry Thing,
Excepting Sense and Latin.
Who brag and bounce till Danger comes,
Oh! then they lag and faulter;
And think it better to resign
Than venture to Gibraltar.
Oh! then they lag and faulter;
And think it better to resign
Than venture to Gibraltar.
And there's your Cits that have their Tits
In Finsbury so sweet,
But costlier Tits they keep, God wot!
In Bond and Poultney-Street.
In Finsbury so sweet,
But costlier Tits they keep, God wot!
In Bond and Poultney-Street.
225
And there's your green Nobility,
On Citizens so witty,
Whose Fortune and Gentility,
Arose from London's City.
On Citizens so witty,
Whose Fortune and Gentility,
Arose from London's City.
Our Fathers labour'd for our ease,
And left us store of Treasure;
Then, let us make the most of Life,
And lay it out in Pleasure.
And left us store of Treasure;
Then, let us make the most of Life,
And lay it out in Pleasure.
We go to Bed when others rise,
And Dine at Candle-light;
There's nothing mends Complexion more,
Than turning Day to Night.
And Dine at Candle-light;
There's nothing mends Complexion more,
Than turning Day to Night.
For what is Title, Wealth, or Wit
If Folks are not Genteel?
Or how can they be said to live,
Who know not what's Quadrille?
If Folks are not Genteel?
Or how can they be said to live,
Who know not what's Quadrille?
| Poems on several occasions | |