The Virginia Gazette

Please to insert the following Lines, which were wrote
by a Friend of mine, in your next Gazette ; and you'll
oblige
Your Humble Servant,
H. P.

Occasionally written to a Friend.

When
How would have thought that Bella's Frown
Cou'd e'er have cast your Spirit down!
Or e'er believ'd that one so gay,
Would gravely fool his Heart away,
To pride, a vain, fantastic Fair,
That is not worth thy Moment's Care;
And make Fops, Apes, and Coxcombs Sport,
Her Fav'rites, and her chief Resort!
Or join the Herd, or break her Chain,
And show yourself a Man again.
Cou'd you dissemble, swear, and lye,
You'd be an Angel in her Eye ;
Or how'd you ridicule good Sense,
And countenance Impertinence,
Be Witty in the modish Way,
And scandalize your Friends at Tea ;
Maul ev'ry Lady in the Town,
And pull their Reputations down;
Fall foul on Flavia's Dress and Mein,
My Lady's Vapours, Qualms, and Spleen ;
Say what she lost, when last she play'd,
And How---- and When---- Sir John was paid;
Then raise a Jet on Chloe's Spark,
Gallanting Sylvia to the Park; ---
"Poor Chloe thought him all her own :
" Should he prove faithless, he'll have none.
" How sad must be the Consequences!
"I wish she does not lose her Senses.
Should you, I say, thus idly prattle,
And entertain her with such Rattle,
Thus give a Loose to base Aspersion,
Making it Matter of Diversion
Successful you might play your Part,
And take Possession of her Heart:
But as it is, you strive in vain
To please, for Merit gives her Pain.
Forgive me, if a friendly Zeal
Prompts me indecently to rail.
I own her Follies touch not me,
But as I am concern'd for thee :
Nor do I wonder, since Love's blind,
That you those Follies cannot find.
See Myra, that transcendent She,
From all her Sex's Errors free,
Whose generous and exalted Mind,
Untainted by the Coxcomb-kind,
Disdains those little, servile Ways,
That only Fools, or Females please;
And equally detests a Theme,
That tends to blast her Neighbours Fame.
Thro' nicest Rules of Prudence taught,
With ev'ry Grace and Virtue fraught;
What Charms, what Beauties she displays,
In all she does, and all she says!
Were thy lov'd Arabella such,
You cou'd not doat on her too much.
Myra thy Worth can justly rate,
And make thee Happy, if not Great.
Go visit her, and I'll be shot,
But Arabella's soon forgot.