The Penitent

Occasion'd by the Author's being asked if she would take Ten Pounds for her Poems.

WHEN Parthenissa talk'd to-day
Of Profits and of Mira's Lay,
And list'ning Mira heard the Sound
Of number Ten with added Pound,
The saucy Minx betray'd her Pride,
And turn'd her scornful Head aside:
You, doubtless, Madam, wonder'd why,
And hardly could believe 'twas I:
But all have Faults, and 'twou'd be vain
To boast a Heart that's free from Stain.
This Maxim Mira prov'd was true,
No golden Apples lay in view
Across her Path—and yet she fell:
The Cause—have Patience and we'll tell,
You saw not—no, to my Surprize
It scap'd your penetrating Eyes;
The wicked Knot—'twas new to-day,
The Knot—what Colour was it, pray?
So gay, 'twou'd make a Hermit vain;
Then wonder not at Mira's Brain.

But now disrob'd—with dirty Shoes
And Apron ragged as the Muse,
In Night-cap tight and wrapping Gown,
No more is seen the haughty Frown;
The fatal Top-knot laid aside
With its destructive Daughter Pride.
The vain Chimeras all are flown,
And Reason re-assumes her Throne.

Now, could you find an honest Dealer,
(As an Attorney or a Taylor)
Who wants a Muse that's not too dear,
Send him directly you know where:
We for a Trifle shall not part,
Nor from an easy Bargain start,
And that his Purchase may'nt be hard,
I'll add of Packthread half a Yard,
To satisfy the greedy Lout,
And bind the Papers round about.