The First of April | Page 5

Maids, who heave the midnight sigh

Beneath the burthen of Virginity!
Or you, ye stray'd ones, who,
unblushing, boast
Your Virtue sullied, and your Honour lost!
Ye
_Pidgeons_, who hold forth the Golden Plume
For Knaves to pluck,

and Harlots to consume!
Ye wedded Fair, who, splenetic at home,

Think it the duty of a Wife to roam!
Ye Husbands, from whose cold
neglect proceeds
The Cuckold sproutings of your aching heads!
Ye
_City Wights_, who feel it pride to trace
The faded manners of St.
JAMES'S PLACE,
'Till with imperial deeds you blend your fame,

And ROYAL GAZETTES propagate your Name!
Ye blazing Patriots
who of Freedom boast,
'Till in a gaol your Liberties are lost!
Ye
Noble Fair, who, _satisfied with Show_,
Court the light, frothy
flatteries of a _Beau_!
Ye high-born Peers, whose ardor to excel,

Grows from the beauties of some modish _Belle_!
Ye jocund Crowd,
of every degree,
Welcome, thrice welcome, to this place and me!

--Haste--on the Altar your best offerings leave;
And, in return, my
favouring smiles receive!
First let the PEERAGE come:--'tis my
decree
To pay all Honours to _Precedency_."
At her command, the pressing Crowds retreat:
When D----, uprising
from her feat,
With careless gesture to the Altar moves.
Then
_Virtue_ shriek'd,--and all the _Laughing Loves_
That play'd around,
droop'd instant with dismay,
And spread their wings, and, weeping,
fled away!
The Noble Dame her offering now prepares.--
A Father's counsels,
and a Mother's cares.
Upon the Altar's gilded surface lie,
With
winning grace, and sweet simplicity;
The gay, yet decent, look; the
modest air,
Which loves the brow of Youth, and triumphs there;

The power to give delight, devoid of art,
Which stole unconscious
o'er the Lover's heart;
The wish to bless, with all those Virgin charms

Which heighten'd rapture in a Husband's arms;
Each infant
friendship, each domestic care,
Each elevated thought was offer'd
there.
Nor did the _lavish Votary_ deny
One solid charm,--but
chilling Chastity.
Enraptur'd FOLLY bless'd the lucky hour

That
gave so fair a subject to her power.
Nor did the long delay, with
circling hand,
To wave around the Fair her magic wand.
When,

lo!--the sudden Plumes her temples grac'd;
The yielding Stays sink
downwards to the waist;
And, strange to tell, her rosy lips dispense

_Double-entendres_ and Impertinence.
Throughout the Hall a loud applause was heard,
Nor ceas'd till D----'s
airy form appear'd.
No common offering she seem'd to bear;

Connubial tenderness,--the watchful care
Which tender Infants from
their Mothers claim,
The sage demeanor, and the blameless name
In
which High Life should ever be array'd,
Her steady hand upon the
Altar laid.
The Queen with laughter loud her joy exprest,
And, strait, I saw the
giddy _Countess_ drest
In Infant's garb, and like an Infant smil'd;

The Parent now was sunk into the Child.
The rattle pleas'd it, and the
painted toy;
Awhile the trifles charm, but soon they cloy.
Anon she
cries,--for some new play distrest,
'Till FETES CHAMPETRES hush
it into rest.
Next B---- was seen, whose sprightly eye
Beam'd with the pertness of
Vivacity.
To the gay shrine the wanton Fair proceeds,
And, smiling,
offers up her Widow's weeds.
Here E----'s chaste vows, and proffer'd
love,
With _Hymeneal_ garlands interwove,
And injur'd D----'s
unavailing sighs,
Together form an ample sacrifice.
Delighted FOLLY wav'd her pow'rful wand!
A sprightly figure came
at her command;
Its face of GALLIC mould and sallow hue.
And
o'er his shoulder hung the _Cordon Bleu_.
Up-rose the
QUEEN.--"My favourite Prince, she cried,
To me and to my House
so near allied,
To you I shall resign no common care:
Beneath your
wing I place a favourite Fair.
Regardless of her Children's growing
years,
Deaf to their prattle, heedless of their tears;
Tir'd of her
native land, and pleasant home,
On foreign shores she languishes to
roam;
In foreign Courts to play coquettish arts,
And dart her
lightnings into foreign hearts.

Yours is the Court where she would

wish to shine;
And where's the heart so soon inflam'd as thine?"
She
spoke.--They heard their Mistress with delight;
When, in a cloud, she
veil'd them from my sight.
The painted A----, who appear'd once more,
To do what she'd so
often done before,
Approach'd the Altar, to deposite there
Each
thought, each action of the finish'd year.
Alone the Lady came,--alone
return'd;
None joy'd her presence,--none her absence mourn'd.
Next M---- came, whose pleasing looks disclose
Charms which must
soften her severest foes.
Plac'd by her hand upon the Altar, lie
Each
_single Item of Oeconomy_;
While her good, easy Lord the rite
survey'd,
And ratified the sacrifice she made.
Tho' small the
Offering seem'd, in truth, 'twas great;
It was the Fragment of his vast
Estate.
E'en FOLLY saw their gay career must end,
But, for their
duties past, now prov'd their friend;
And gave a Book that teaches the
repair
Of ruin'd Fortunes _in a foreign Air_.
But now advanc'd a melancholy Train:--
In plaintive notes the
breathing flutes complain.
And lo! the sorrowing D---- then succeeds,

In all the mournful pomp of Widows' weeds.
I heard her loud
lament and bitter moan,
Not for a Husband, but a Title gone.
Close
by her side I saw the _illustrious_ Dame
Whom Wits the _Modern
Messalina_ name;
Who whisper'd comfort to the mourning Fair,

And told of joys which blooming Widows share;
Whose easy life no
haughty ruler knows;
Who, when th' awaken'd passion wanton grows,

May, where her fancy leads, allay the flame,
Nor fear a husband's