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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455550" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To The Reverend Mr. Mabell, Of Cambridge</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tho' great Longinus claims thy aiding Hand,<br>And hopes, thro' thee, t'instruct a barb'rous Land,<br>Where vile Conceits the Pow'r of Wit confound,<br>And true Sublimity is lost in Sound;<br>Where Folly, dress'd ten thousand various Ways,<br>The Bar, the Play--house, and the Pulpit sways;<br>Yet to my Verse thy kind Attention lend;<br>Pardon the Poet, and indulge the Friend.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From Noise, and Nonsense, and vain Laughte free,<br>I steal a thoughtful Hour, and give to thee;<br>To thee, Conductor of my heedless Youth,<br>Who taught me first to rev'rence Sense, and Truth;<br>Virtue to praise; and boldly Vice deride,<br>With all the Pomp of Fashion on her Side.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Behold the Scene a motley Tribe compose,<br>Wives, Widows, Maids, and intermingled Beaux,<br>All Orders, Ages, in one League unite,<br>And to dear Passage consecrate the Night!<br>Now the Dice rattle in the sounding Box;<br>Now groans the Table with repeated Knocks;<br>(Delightful Musick to the Gamester's Ear!)<br>While ev'ry Bosom beats with Hope or Fear.<br>A Pass resounds--What wond'rous Transports rise<br>In Celia's Breast, and lighten in her Eyes!<br>She sweeps the Board--The Fop, with ardent Gaze,<br>Admires the Beauty that her Arm displays.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But who, unmov'd, can bear the piteous Sight,<br>While Cynthia frets and raves at Fortune's Spite?<br>Fled from her Cheek are ev'ry Love and Grace,<br>And all the Fury threatens in her Face:<br>Distracted, lost, with Grief and Rage o'ercome,<br>She quits the Dice, and flies to storm at home.<br>When I a Curse implore, may courteous Fate<br>With such a Consort curse the Man I hate!<br>But is there One amongst the Many found,<br>Adorn'd with Modesty, with Reason crown'd;<br>Who treads the slipp'ry Paths of Youth with Care,<br>And uninfected breathes in tainted Air?<br>If such there be, kind Heav'n, afford thy Aid,<br>And soften to my Wish the virtuous Maid!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">See the Belle flutter with the sprightly Beau!<br>They trip it on the light, fantastic Toe:<br>Nor Words, nor Sighs, their am'rous Thoughts impart;<br>They dance, and glitter at each other's Heart!<br>With honest Scorn survey yon various Croud,<br>Of supple Slaves, or Lords of Titles proud!<br>Stiff--nodding Fools! a Mob in Masquerade!<br>Whom Honours brand, and Dignities upbraid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet some there are, with Worth and Wisdom blest.<br>A noble Few! who satirize the rest;<br>Who scorn to boast their great Fore--father's Rays,<br>Shine of themselves, and mingle Blaze with Blaze.<br>And such is Orrery; whose gen'rous Mind,<br>Still prone to Pity, feels for human Kind.<br>A Zeal for Piety inflames his Breast,<br>Temper'd with Charity, in Meekness dress'd:<br>Grandeur and Ease his ev'ry Action guide;<br>He nor assumes, nor condescends in Pride:<br>Add sprightly Wit, by prudent Laws confin'd,<br>A Judgment sober, and by Books refin'd:<br>Add that the Muses ev'ry Charm dispense,<br>To tune his Voice, and beautify the Sense.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This to my Friend: And, O! may this inspite<br>Love of fair Fame, and fan the sacred Fire!<br>Dare to have Taste, and urge thy glorious Toil,<br>To teach th' Unknowing, and to please a Boyle.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Barber">Mary Barber</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455550" data-title="To The Reverend Mr. Mabell, Of Cambridge de Mary Barber" data-description="Tho' great Longinus claims thy aiding Hand,
And hopes, thro' thee, t'instruct a barb'rous Land,
Where vile Conceits the Pow'r of Wit confound,
And true Sublimity is lost in Sound;
Where Folly, dress'd ten thousand various Ways,
The Bar, the Play--..."></div>
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