Sat. I. The Universal Passion. 17Their smiles are only part of what they wear,

Put off at night with Lady B -’s hair.

What bodily fatigue is half so bad ?

With anxious care they labour to be. glad.

What numbers, here, would into Fame advance*Conscious of merit in the Coxcomb’s dance ?

The Tavern! Park! Assembly! Mask! and Play!Those dear destroyers of the tedious day!

That Wheel of Fops! that Saunter of the Town!Call it diverson, and the fill goes down;

Fools grin on Fools, and Stoic-like, support,Without one sigh, the pleasures of a Court.

Courts can give nothing to the wife, and good,

But scorn of Pomp, and love of Solitude.

High stations tumult, but not bliss create;

None think the Great unhappy, but the Great;

C

Fools