EPISTLES.
TO THE SUPPOSED
AUTHOR OF THE SPECTATOR.
In courts licentious and a shameless stage
How long the war shall wit with virtue wage?
Enchanted by this prostituted fair
Our youth run headlong in the fatal snare,
In height of rapture clasp unheeded pains, 5
And suck pollution thro' their tingling veins.
Thy spotless thoughts unshock'd the priest may hear,
And the pure Vestal in her bosom wear.
To conscious blushes and diminish'd pride
Thy glass betrays what treach'rous love would hide;
Nor harsh thy precepts, but infus'd by stealth, 11
Pleas'd while they cure and cheat us into health.
Thy works in Chloe's toilet gain a part,
And with his tailor share the foppling's heart.
Lash'd in thy satire the penurious Cit 15
Laughs at himself and finds no harm in wit.
From felon gamesters the raw squire is free,
And Britain owes her rescu'd oaks to thee.
His miss the frolick Viscount dreads to toast,
Or his third cure the shallow Templar boast; 20
How long the war shall wit with virtue wage?
Enchanted by this prostituted fair
Our youth run headlong in the fatal snare,
In height of rapture clasp unheeded pains, 5
And suck pollution thro' their tingling veins.
Thy spotless thoughts unshock'd the priest may hear,
And the pure Vestal in her bosom wear.
To conscious blushes and diminish'd pride
Thy glass betrays what treach'rous love would hide;
Nor harsh thy precepts, but infus'd by stealth, 11
Pleas'd while they cure and cheat us into health.
Thy works in Chloe's toilet gain a part,
And with his tailor share the foppling's heart.
Lash'd in thy satire the penurious Cit 15
Laughs at himself and finds no harm in wit.
From felon gamesters the raw squire is free,
And Britain owes her rescu'd oaks to thee.
His miss the frolick Viscount dreads to toast,
Or his third cure the shallow Templar boast; 20
