The Parade

LET those attend who seek the choice,
Here, independent, we rejoice;
We look, we like, we meet, we part,
As Instinct prompts the feeling heart.
While many Groups miscall'd the great,
Surrounded by insipid State,
The Health of Peace abuse.
In Party's tumult, Pomp's fatigue,
Place, Popularity's intrigue,
Life's social scenes they lose.

The Danglers at a Birth-night's glare,
As Toyshop Figures, fin'ry wear,
Like winnow'd chaff shift to and fro',
In all the fuss and farce of shew.
As flies to Sunshine spread their wings,
So up and down these idle things,
In courtly Sunbeams play.
The Nobles smile to see the train,
Which, with a blush, they must maintain,
To garnish Grandeur's day.

Daughters of Dignity and Grace,
Ye high-bred Dames of haughty Race,
What think you, 'midst your Di'mond blaze,
Your crouded Routs, and Gala days?
Tho' sordid Flatt'ry's servile grin
Extols your forms, is all within
Fit for Contentment's dome?
Sisters of Fashion laugh and love,
Tho' round you all the Graces move,
Yet how are things at Home?

Your stucco'd Cielings, emboss'd Plate,
Your Carpets, Robes, and Beds of State,
Where Gold and Silver Cupids wove,
Exbibit artificial Love.—
Can Down, or fring'd Embroidery's art,
Affection win or warm the Heart,
Or strengthen Vigour's stores?
Perhaps, 'midst all the waste of Pride,
The Fribble yawns at Beauty's side,
Or sottish Husband snores.

While we, as marry'd folks shou'd do,
On neat unvarnish'd Love fall to.
Satiety ne'er bids us roam,
We find Fruition's feast at home;
Beyond all mercenary charms,
Pure Inclination opes her arms.
Give Caesar Caesar's due.
May Friendship fill the manly breast,
And Gratitude be Beauty's guest,
And each to each be true.