XIII.

The mystic Bacchanalian Rite,

The folemn Orgies of the Night

Keep, uncontroul'd, their Station:

'Till the Cock crow, and Matin Bell With facred Sound diffolve the Spell, And end the Conjuration.

PROLOGUE to IGNORAMUS In 1711.

N Metamorphofis, as Poets tell,

IN

Proteus did all his Brother Gods excel.

Just as the Fancy took him wou'd appear
An Opera Lion, or a Hockley Bear.

Would bellow, grunt, or miaul, or hark, or hifs;
In short, no earthly Figure came amifs.

But if you prest him, and he could not scape,
At last he reaffum'd his proper Shape.

Juft

Juft fuch in Life has Ignoramus been,
First in one Drefs, and then another feen.
Howe'er this Play confines him to the Bar,
He ranges, and by Turns is ev'ry where.
Sometimes upon a Stage exalted high,
He either couches, or puts out an Eye.

Now glares in gilded Chariot, and anon

C

Ascends a Tub, and proves a stiff Non-Con.
Then he will drefs, and drink, and fwear, and fight,
And lose a thousand Guineas in a Night.

Next runs against a Post, and breaks a Shin,
Yet gravely tells you of the Light within.
Soon after the Poetic Maggot bites,
He calls for Paper, Pen, and Ink, and writes
No matter what, Dramatics, Epics, Lyrics,
Ballads or Odes, Lampoons or Panegyrics.
Thus have I oft the various Frenzy view'd,
Thro'

every Scene the shifting Fool pursu'd,

'Till tir'd with all the Changes he had shown, His genuine Figure he refolv'd to own,

Of Dev'reux Court, his proper Sphere, poffeft, Free-Thinker turn'd-and there he stands confeft.

A

On a Lady ftung by a Bee.

I.

S Calia in her Garden stray'd,

Secure, nor dreamt of Harm

A Bee approach'd the lovely Maid,

And rested on her Arm.

The curious Infect thither flew,

To taste the tempting Bloom:

But, with a thousand Sweets in view,

It found a fudden Doom.

III. Her

III.

Her nimble Hand of Life bereav'd

The daring little Thing;

But first the snowy Arm receiv'd

And felt the painful Sting.

IV.

Once only could that Sting furprize,

Once be injurious found:

Not fo the Darts of Calia's Eyes,

They never cease to wound.

V.

Oh! would the fhort-liv'd burning Smart

The Nymph to Pity move;

And teach her to regard the Heart
She fires with endless Love.

The

The FAIRIES.

C

I.

Ome follow, follow me,

Ye fairy Elves, that be

Light tripping o'er the Green;

Come follow Mab your Queen :

Hand in Hand we'll dance around,

For this Place is Fairy Ground.

II.

When Mortals are at rest,

And fnoreing in their Neft;

Unheard and unefpy'd

Through Key-holes we do glide, Over Tables, Stools and Shelves, We trip it with our Fairy Elves.

III. And