The PRETTY BAR-KEEPER of the MITRE.
BALLAD XIV.
Written at College, 1741.
I
“Relax, sweet girl, your wearied mind,
“And to hear the poet talk,
“Gentlest creature of your kind,
“Lay aside your sponge and chalk;
“Cease, cease the bar-bell, nor refuse
“To hear the jingle of the Muse.
II
“Hear your numerous vot'ries prayers,
“Come, O come, and bring with thee
“Giddy whimsies, wanton airs,
“And all love's soft artillery;
“Smiles and throbs, and frowns, and tears,
“With all the little hopes and fears.
III
She heard—she came—and e'er she spoke,
Not unravish'd you might see
Her wanton eyes that wink'd the joke,
Ee'r her tongue could set it free.
While a forc'd blush her cheeks inflam'd,
And seem'd to say she was asham'd.
IV
No handkerchief her bosom hid,
No tippet from our sight debars
Her heaving breasts with moles o'erspread,
Mark'd, little hemispheres, with stars;
While on them all our eyes we move,
Our eyes that meant immoderate love.
V
In every gesture, every air,
Th'imperfect lisp, the languid eye;
In every motion of the fair
We awkward imitators vie,
And forming our own from her face,
Strive to look pretty, as we gaze.
VI
If e'er she sneer'd, the mimic crowd
Sneer'd too, and all their pipes laid down;
If she but stoop'd, we lowly bow'd,
And sullen if she 'gan to frown
In solemn silence sat profound—
But did she laugh!—the laugh went round.
VII
Her snuff-box if the nymph pull'd out,
Each Johnian in responsive airs
Fed with the tickling dust his snout,
With all the politesse of bears.
Dropt she her fan beneath her hoop,
Ev'n stake-stuck Clarians strove to stoop.
VIII
The tons of culinary Kays
Smoaking from the eternal treat,
Lost in extatic transport gaze,
As tho' the fair was good to eat;
Ev'n gloomiest King's men, pleas'd awhile,
“Grin horribly a ghastly smile.”
IX
But hark, she cries, “my mama calls,”
And strait she's vanish'd from our fight;
'Twas then we saw the empty bowls,
'Twas then we first perceiv'd it night;
While all, sad Synod, silent moan,
Both that she went—and went alone.
