114 LOVE of FAME, Sat.V.

O how your beating breast a Mistress warmsWho looks thro' spectacles to fee your charms!While rival undertakers hover round,

And with his spade the sexton marks the ground,Intent not on her own, but others doom,

She plans new conquests, and defrauds the tomb.In vain the cock has summon’d sf rights away,She walks at noon, and blasts the bloom of day.Gay rainbow silks her mellow charms infold,

And nought of Lyce but herself is old.

Her grizzled locks assume a smirking grace,

And art has level?d her deep-furrow’d face.

Her strange demand no mortal can approve,

We’ll ask her blessings but can’t ask her love.

She grants indeed a Lady may decline,

(All Ladies but herself) at ninety-nine.

O how unlike her was the sacred ageOf prudent Tortia ? Her grey hairs engage ,

Whose