Shall I thumb holy books, confin'd With Abigails forsaken? Kitty's for other things design'd, Or I am much mistaken. Must Lady Jenny frisk about, And visit with her cousins? At balls must she make all this rout, And bring home hearts by dozens? What has she better, pray, than I? What hidden charms to boast, That all mankind for her must die, Whilst I am scarce a toast? Dearest Mamma! for once, let me Unchain'd my fortune try: I'll have my Earl as well as she, Or know the reason why. Fondness prevail'd, Mamma gave way: Kitty, at heart's desire, Obtain'd the chariot for a day, And set the world on fire! Kitty not only set the world on fire, but more than accomplished her magnanimous resolution to have an Earl as well as her sister, Lady Jenny.[103] She married the Duke of Queensbury; and as _that_ Duchess of Queensbury, who was the friend and patroness of Gay, is still farther connected with the history of our poetical literature. Pope paid a compliment to her beauty, in a well-known couplet, which is more refined in the application than in the expression:-- If Queensbury to strip there's no compelling, 'Tis from a handmaid we must take a Helen. She was an amiable, exemplary woman, and possessed that best and only preservative of youth and beauty,--a kind, cheerful disposition and buoyant spirits. When she walked at the coronation of George the Third, she was still so strikingly attractive, that Horace Walpole handed to her the following impromptu, written on a leaf of his pocket-book, To many a Kitty, Love, his car, Would for a day engage; But Prior's Kitty, ever fair, Obtained it for an age! She is also alluded to in Thomson's Seasons. And stooping thence to Ham's embowering walks, Beneath whose shades, in spotless peace retir'd, With her the pleasing partner of his heart, The worthy Queensb'ry yet laments his Gay.--_Summer._ The Duchess of Queensbury died in 1777.[104] Two other women, who lived about the same time, possess a degree of celebrity which, though but a sound--a name--rather than a feeling or an interest, must not pass unnoticed; more particularly as they will farther illustrate the theory we have hitherto kept in view. I allude to "Granville's Mira," and "Prior's Chloe." For the fame of the first, a single line of Pope has done more than all the verses of Lord Lansdown: it is in the Epistle to Jervas the painter-- With Zeuxis' Helen, thy Bridgewater vie, And these be sung, till Granville's Mira die!