Your portrait shall be in the booksellers' shops, Your legs be the envy of all London fops;
Your diamonds shall be the delight of each gaper, Your curricle too, shall be cut out with paper.* To this my proposal, I pray then attend,
And, sir, on my services you may depend
W-lly P, Esq. to Miss T-L-g.
LONG may the muse, in melting lays, Resound my charmer's name and praise; Be this the burthen of her song-
I long, ere long, to clasp my L-g; Long may she live to fill my arms! Long may I live to fold her charms!
Thou keep'st me from my darling fair,
But if I fail not in my view,
Thou'st not another day to woo; Remember Jn's in the way,
And there will be the dev'l to pay.
• Clarence beware, thou keep'st me from the light,
But, if I fail not in my bold attempt,
Thou'st not another day to live,
Think on thy station, too, in life, And send abroad, then, for a wife; Think on thy age-upon my word The fair will think thy suit absurd ;- The long and short of it is this, Miss L-g will take thy love amiss. But I have heard the people say Another rival's in my way;" "Tis ROMEO RANTALL, as I hear, Who is a dying for my dear. Surely my charmer would not deign With such a puppet to be seen, Whose hobby is to play the fool, Not having been due time at school. "Tis true that diamond rings he wears, Has handsome legs too, he declares ;- But what of that? he cannot talk, And then observe his awkward walk; I swear, by all the gods and goddesses, I never saw a strut so odd as his. He looks, when grandeur he assumes, The jackdaw in the peacock's plumes; And tho' his hobby, as 'tis said, is To please continually the ladies, It seems he would forego that pleasure, When likely to affect his treasure;
For when EUPHEMIA did petition Two guineas, in her sad condition, He was a lacking in his duty, Tho' supplicated thus by beauty; Then, tho' to please the fair his hobby, T'assist them would too great a job be. He gratifies no fair that begs, Except by showing her his legs; His lovely legs! which, boná-fide, In clumsey boots will never hide he. than many Euphemia, sure, was more To have his aid upon a benefit; A worthier object, 'tis confess'd, Than Widow Fairburn, and the rest. I hear, tho' for this liberal aid A liberal present must be paid; True, on my honour, for, you know The gallant, gay Latha-ri-o
None can in summer or in winter view, Till a douceur obtains the interview. Ah, then, my charmer, knit thy brows, Nor listen to this lover's vows;
Cou'dst thou with gracious smiles exhilarate
A man who acts at such a silly rate?
Oh, never, never, I foresee
Those gracious smiles are kept for me ;
And that your frowns will in a hurry kill The cock that crows upon his curricle. Tell him, my love, you're very sorry That he should be a dying for you, But as he dies with great decorum,
Tell him, when dead, that you'll encore him. But wherefore dictate to my fair Of protestations to beware?
Why of my rivals entertain
A doubt, but that their suits are vain? Convinc'd am I their claims are wrong, Convinc'd their joy will not be--LONG! Convinc'd am I my fair one doats, Not on a Prince, or Bobby Cts, But on her servant true, sincere, Who always will her charms revere ; Convinc'd am I that she'll prefer The man that idolizes her; Convinc'd am I that she'll accept The vows that will be always kept; That she'll accept of this address, And with her hand the author bless. Ecstatic hope! on this I live- A hope I'd not for kingdoms give, While I remain, my life, my soul, Your fond admirer,
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