The MISTAKEN LOVER. Mary Leapor Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
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Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
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Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T127827 p. 413 K101776.000 Leapor, Mrs. (Mary), 1722-1746. Poems upon several occasions: By Mrs. Leapor of Brackley in Northamptonshire. London printed: and sold by J. Roberts 1748 pp. 81-90. 15,[5],282p. ; 8⁰.

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The MISTAKEN LOVER . STREPHON the sprightly and the gay , Lov'd Celia fresh and fair as May : None shone so brilliant in the Mall , The Court , th' Assembly and the Ball ; None bare at Will's the laurel'd Prize , But Celia with the killing Eyes . 'Twas at the Drawing Room or Play , ( But which our Author cannot say ) As Celia roll'd her Eyes around , This Youth receiv'd a mortal Wound . What shou'd he do ? — " Commence the Beau , " For Women oft are caught by Show . " The wounded Strephon now behold , Array'd in Coat of Green and Gold , ( Of which we something might advance ) The Sleeve was a-la-mode de France . We leave it here — and haste to tell , How smartly round his Temples fell The modish Wig . — Yet we presume , More graceful was the scarlet Plume : Tho' some rude Soldier ( doom'd to bear The Southern and the Northern Air , And walk through ev'ry kind of Weather ) Might jeer at Strephon's scarlet Feather ; And tell us such shou'd ne'er be wore , Unless you fought at Marston-moor . His Person finish'd , now the Care Is to address and gain the Fair : He purchas'd all the Songs of Note , And got the Lover's Cant by rote : He brib'd her Footmen and her Maids , And with his nightly Serenades Her vaulted Roofs and Gardens rung : For her he ogled , danc'd and sung ; Was often at her Toilet seen , With Sonnets to the Paphian Queen : Then at her Feet dejected lying , Praying , weeping , sighing , dying . " Was Celia kind ? " It shall be known : D'ye think our Hearts are made of Stone ? Yes , she was kind , and to proceed , The Writings drawn and Friends agreed : Grave Hymen's sacred Knot was ty'd , And Celia Fair commenc'd a Bride . But I shall pass the Wedding-day , Nor stay to paint the Ladies gay , Nor Splendor of the lighted Hall , The Feast , the Fiddles , nor the Ball . A lovely Theme ! — 'Tis true , but then We'll leave it to a softer Pen : Those transient Joys will fade too soon , We'll therefore skip the Hony-Moon . 'Twas half a Year — It might be more , Since Celia brought her shining Store , Five thousand Pounds of Sterling clear , To bless the Mansion of her Dear . Some tell us Wives their Beauties lose , When they have spoil'd their bridal Shoes : Some learned Casuists make it clear , A Wife might please for half a Year : And others say , her Charms will hold As long as the suspended Gold ; But that her Bloom is soon decay'd , And wither'd when her Fortune's paid . Now which of these was Celia's Case , ( Tho' all are common to her Race ) I shall not rack my Brains about , But leave the Learn'd to pick it out . This Husband , whimsical and gay , Lov'd Musick , Masquerades , and Play , Was one of those most happy Elves , That dote upon their charming Selves : Who hating dull domestick Walls , Fly here and there as Fancy calls ; Still in pursuit of something new , Nor even to their Vices true . Mistaken Strephon finds no more His Celia charming as before : Her Eyes ! — Why , they have lost their Fire : The Roses on her Cheek expire . Her Shape — 'Tis alter'd strangely , sure ; Her Voice no Mortal can endure . Then to the Park where Claudia rolls Her Eyes to fish for shallow Souls : Or at the Play he must appear , For lovely Lindamine is there : No mortal Bell so fair as she , If wretched Strephon was but free . I'th' Country he deludes the Morn With Ringwood and the hunting Horn : Perhaps may with his Dearest dine , Then hey for Company and Wine ; Wine that wou'd make an Hermit gay , With Musick intermix'd and Play . For Tables and for Cards they call : The Dice-box rattles in the Hall . Now all are happy nor give o'er , Till Watches point to Number Four : Then see the Face of dawning Day : Here Lucy . " Where's your Lady , pray ? " She's gone to rest . — There let her be , " Go make the crimson Bed for me . " All this a while in Silence pass'd , The Lady's Patience fail'd at last . One Morning ( so the Fates decree ) Alone was sitting he and she : Not yet arriv'd the roaring Band , Nor Rake nor Coxcomb was at hand . This blest Occasion pleas'd the Fair , And with a mild and chearful Air , She thus began : " My Strephon say , " Why this dejected Face to day ? " Why art thou always cross and dull , " Unless the noisy Rooms are full ? " Black Discontent and Anger lies " Close lurking in thy sullen Eyes ; " Those Eyes that I with Sorrow see " Disgusted when they roll on me . Here ceas'd the greatly injur'd Bride , And Strephon with a Blush reply'd : " Why , Madam , I must own that you , " Have Merit , ( give the De'l his due ) " And was the Pleasure of my Life , " Before you wore the Name of Wife : " But Ma'm , the Reason was , I find , " That while a Lover I was blind : " And now the Fault is not in me , " 'Tis only this — that I can see . I thought you once a Goddess trim , " The Graces dwelt on ev'ry Limb : " But , Madam , if you e'er was such , " Methinks you're alter'd very much : " As first ( I beg your Pardon tho' ) " You hold your Head extremely low : " And tho' your Shape is not awry , " Your Shoulders stand prodigious high : " Your curling Hair I durst have swore , " Was blacker than the sable Moor : " But now I find 'tis only brown , " A Colour common through the Town : " 'Tis true you're mighty fair — But now " I spy a Freckle on your Brow ; " Your Lips I own are red and thin , " But there's a Pimple on your Chin : " Besides your Eyes are gray . — Alack ! " 'Till now I always thought 'em black . " Thus , Madam , I the Truth have told ; " 'Tis true , I thank you for your Gold ; " But find in searching of my Breast , " That I cou'd part with all the rest . He ceas'd — And both were mute a while , 'Till Celia answer'd with a Smile : " Who would have thought , my Dear , says she , " That Love was blind to this degree ; " But in my Turn I'll own it too , " That I'm as much deceiv'd as you : " From hence let our Example show " The gay Coquette and sprightly Beau ; " That Love like theirs will never hold , " Not tho' 'tis cemented with Gold : " Let all the Youths to you repair , " For Counsel — and to me the Fair . " 'Twill help to make our Strephons wise , " And stop the Growth of tender Lies : " And more than Plato's moral Page " Instruct the Celia's of the Age . " But now , my Dearest , as you see " In mutual Hatred we agree , " Methinks 'tis better we retreat , " Each Party to a distant Seat ; " And tho' we value each the other , " Just as one Rush regards another : " Yet let us often send to hear , " If Health attend the absent Dear : " And tho' each other we would shun , " As Debtors do a hateful Dun : " ( Nor mind the crossing of a Street ) " Yet let's be civil when we meet , " And live in short like courtly Friends : " They part — and thus the Story ends .