Alexander Pope - "Mary Gulliver to Captain Lemuel Gulliver" lyrics

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Alexander Pope - "Mary Gulliver to Captain Lemuel Gulliver" lyrics

ARGUMENT: The Captain, some Time after his Return, being retired to Mr. Sympson's in the Country, Mrs. Gulliver, apprehending from his late Behaviour some Estrangement of his Affections, writes him the following expostulating, soothing, and tenderly-complaining Epistle. Welcome, thrice welcome to thy native Place! --What, touch me not? What, shun a Wife's Embrace? Have I for this thy tedious Absence born, And wak'd and wish'd whole Nights for thy Return? In five long Years I took no second Spouse; What Redriff Wife so long hath kept her Vows? Your Eyes, your Nose, Inconstancy betray; Your Nose you stop, your Eyes you turn away. 'Tis said, that thou shouldst cleave unto thy Wife; Once thou didst cleave, and I could cleave for Life. Hear and relent! Hark, how thy Children moan; Be kind at least to these, they are thy own: Behold, and count them all; secure to find The honest Number that you left behind. See how they pat thee with their pretty Paws: Why start you? Are they Snakes? Or have they Claws? Thy Christian Seed, our mutual Flesh and Bone: Be kind at least to these, they are thy own. Biddel, like thee, might farthest India rove: He chang'd his Country, but retain'd his Love. There's Captain Pennel, absent half his Life, Comes back, and is the kinder to his Wife. Yet Pennel's Wife is brown, compar'd to me; And Mistress Biddel sure is Fifty three. Not touch me! Never Neighbour call'd me s*ut! Was Flimnap's Dame more sweet in Lilliput? I've no red Hair to breathe an odious Fume; At least thy Consort's cleaner than thy Groom. Why then that dirt Stable-boy thy Care? What mean these Visits to the Sorrel Mare? Say, by what Witchcraft, or what Daemon led, Preferr'st thou Litter to the Marriage Bed? Some say the Dev'l himself is in that Mare: If so, our Dean shall drive him forth by Pray'r. Some think you mad, some think you are possest That Bedlam and clean Straw will suit you best: Vain Means, alas, this Frenzy to appease! That Straw, that Straw would heighten the Disease. My Bed, (the Scene of all our former Joys, Witness two lovely Girls, two lovely Boys) Alone I press; in Dreams I call my Dear, I stretch my Hand, no Gulliver is there! I wake, I rise, and shiv'ring with the Frost, Search all the House; my Gulliver is lost! Forth in the Street I rush with frantick Cries: The Windows open; all the Neighbours rise: Where sleeps my Gulliver? O tell me where? The Neighbours answer, With the Sorrel Mare. At early Morn, I to the Market haste, (Studious in ev'ry Thing to please thy Taste) A curious Fowl and Sparagra** I chose, (For I remember you were fond of those,) Three Shillings cost the first, the last sev'n Groats; Sullen you turn from both, and call for Oats. Others bring Goods and Treasure to their Houses, Something to deck their pretty Babes and Spouses; My only Token was a Cup like Horn, That's made of nothing but a Lady's Corn. 'Tis not for that I grieve; no, 'tis to see The Groom and Sorrel Mare preferr'd to me! These, for some Monuments when you deign to quit, And (at due distance) sweet Discourse admit, 'Tis all my Pleasure thy past Toil to know, For pleas'd Remembrance builds Delight on Woe. At ev'ry Danger pants thy Consort's Breast, And gaping Infants squawle to hear the rest. How did I tremble, when by thousands bound I saw thee stretch'd on Lilliputian Ground; When scaling Armies climb'd up ev'ry Part; Each Step they trod, I felt upon my Heart: But when thy Torrent quench'd the dreadful Blaze, King, Queen and Nation, staring with Amaze, Full in my View how all my Husband came, And what extinguish'd theirs, encreas'd my Flame. Those Spectacles, ordain'd thine Eyes to save, Were once my Present; Love that Armour gave. How did I mourn at Bolgolam's Decree! For when he sign'd thy d**h, he sentenc'd me. When folks might see thee all the Country round For Six-pence, I'd have giv'n a thousand Pound. Lord! When the Giant-Babe that Head of thine Got in his Mouth, my Heart was up in mine! When in the Marrow-Bone I see thee ramm'd; Or on the House-top by the Monkey cramm'd; The Piteous Images renew my Pain. And all thy Dangers I weep o'er again! But on the Maiden's Nipple when you rid, Pray Heav'n, 'twas all a wanton Maiden did! Glumdalclitch too! - with thee I mourn her Case. Heav'n guard the gentle Girl from all Disgrace! O may the King that one Neglect forgive, And pardon her the Fault by which I live! Was there no other Way to set him free? My Life, alas! I fear prov'd d**h to Thee! O teach me, Dear, new Words to speak my Flame; Teach me to wooe thee by thy best-lov'd Name! Whether the Style of Grildrig please thee most, So call'd on Brobdingnag's stupendous Coast, When on the Monarch's ample Hand you sate, And hollow'd in his Ear Intrigues of State: Or Quinbus Flestrin more Endearment brings, When like a Mountain you look'd down on Kings: If Ducal Nardac, Lilliputian Peer, Or Glumglum's humbler Title sooth thy Ear: Nay, wou'd kind Jove my Organs so dispose, To hymn harmonious Houyhnhnm thro' the Nose, I'd call thee Houyhnhnm, that high sounding Name, Thy Children's Noses all should twang the same. So might I find my loving Spouse of course Endu'd with all the Virtues of a Horse.