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IMPROMPTU.
TO LADY WINCHELSEA.
OCCASIONED BY FOUR SATIRICAL VERSES ON WOMEN WITS, IN THE RAPE OF THE LOCK.
IN vain you boast poetic names of yore,
And cite those Sapphoes we admire no more:
Fate doom'd the fall of every female wit;
But doom'd it then, when first Ardelia writ.
Of all examples by the world confest,
I knew Ardelia could not quote the best;
Who, like her mistress on Britannia's throne,
Fights and subdues in quarrels not her own.
To write their praise you but in vain essay;
Ev'n while you write, you take that praise away:
Light to the stars the sun does thus restore,
But shines himself till they are seen no more.
EPIGRAM.
A BISHOP by his neighbours hated
Has cause to wish himself translated;
But why should Hough desire translation,
Lov'd and esteem'd by all the nation?
Yet, if it be the old man's case,
I'll lay my life I know the place:
'Tis where God sent some that adore him,
And whither Enoch went before him.
