_Pope._ Yet let me flap this bug with gilded wings, This painted child of dirt, that stinks and stings; Whose buzz the witty and the fair annoys, Yet wit ne’er tastes, and beauty ne’er enjoys: So well-bred spaniels civilly delight In mumbling of the game they dare not bite. Eternal smiles his emptiness betray, As shallow streams run dimpling all the way: Whether in florid impotence he speaks, And, as the prompter breathes, the puppet squeaks; Or at the ear of Eve, familiar toad, Half froth, half venom, spits himself abroad, In puns, or politics, or tales, or lies, Or spite, or smut, or rhymes, or blasphemies. His wit, all see-saw between _that_ and _this_, Now high, now low, now master up, now miss, And he himself one vile antithesis. Amphibious thing! that, acting either part, The trifling head or the corrupted heart, Fop at the toilet, flatt’rer at the board, Now trips a lady, and now struts a lord. Eve’s tempter thus the Rabbins have exprest, A cherub’s face, a reptile all the rest; Beauty that shocks you, parts that none will trust; Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust. POPE, _Epistle to Arbuthnot_ 2. The two following extracts are from love-lyrics of the period. Comment upon the treatment of the theme, paying attention to the strength of feeling expressed, and the naturalness of the expression. Is the English or the Scottish poem the more natural? Write a note on the style of each, and say if it suits the subject. (1) All in the downs the fleet was moored, The streamers waving in the wind, When black-eyed Susan came aboard, “Oh! where shall I my true-love find? Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true, If my sweet William sails among the crew?” William, who high upon the yard Rocked with the billow to and fro, Soon as her well-known voice he heard, He sighed, and cast his eyes below: The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands, And, quick as lightning, on the deck he stands. * * * * * “O Susan, Susan, lovely dear, My vows shall ever true remain; Let me kiss off that falling tear; We only part to meet again. Change as ye list, ye winds! my heart shall be The faithful compass that still points to thee.” * * * * * The boatswain gave the dreadful word, The sails their swelling bosom spread; No longer must she stay aboard; They kissed, she sighed, he hung his head. Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land, “Adieu!” she cries, and waved her lily hand. GAY, _Black-eyed Susan_