ADVICE to MYRTILLO. Mary Leapor Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
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. 167-170. 15,[5],282p. ; 8⁰.

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ADVICE to MYRTILLO . SINCE you , Myrtillo , will devote your Time To the lean Study of delusive Rhyme : Since you're content to slumber out your Days , To dream of Dinners , but to feed on Praise ; Receive this Counsel , e'er your Flights begin , From one long practis'd in the darling Sin . Now Fame's broad Ocean lies before your Way ; Yet , Friend , be careful ; 'tis a dang'rous Sea : Where ( tho' some few may reach the happy Land ) Numbers are wreck'd upon the treach'rous Sand : Then guard your Spirits , as you prize your Ease , Nor once indulge 'em in a thirst of Praise ; For Fame , like Fortune , ( proud , yet wanton too ) Is pleas'd to fly and make the Wretch pursue ; Frowns on her Slaves , but to the careless Mind That slights her Favours she is always kind . Would you the Ladies shou'd approve your Song ? Paint Sylvia's Eyes , or praise Clarinda's Tongue ; Describe the Charms of Cloe's sprightly Air , Or blooming Daphne more divinely fair ; Or Venus's Son that hurls the flaming Dart , And tag each Stanza with a bleeding Heart : Tell them of Rocks where Tears eternal flow , Dissolv'd to Fountains by a Lover's Woe : Of icy Bosoms that in Summer freeze , And Sighs much stronger than a southern Breeze . Perhaps the Fair , whom for a Theme you choose , Must owe her Beauties to your skilful Muse : Has erring Nature raiss'd her Nose too high , Sunk down her Cheeks , or drawn her Lips awry ? No matter how the twisted Features stand , They'll grow divine beneath a Poet's Hand : Tho' her dim Eye-balls roll within her Head , Like two gray Bullets in a Verge of red ; You like Promotheus must their Rays inspire , And fill their Orbs with more than mortal Fire . Do you the Levee of his Grace attend , And ( like most Poets ) shou'd you want a Friend , Make not his Worth the Measure of your Song ; But learn his Humour , and you can't be wrong : Perhaps this Maxim may offend the wise ; But you must flatter , if you mean to rise : Observe what Passions in his Bosom roll , And watch the secret Motions of his Soul : Mind what false Guard has left a Breach within , For some choice Folly , or some darling Sin : These you must hide — but draw his Virtues nigh , Lest the rude Picture shock the gazing Eye . The Heralds-Office you must search with Care ; And look you find no Pimps nor Taylors there : Bring none to light but honourable Knaves ; Shut up the Peasants in their mouldy Graves : If Knights are wanting in the dusky Breed , Arthur's round Table will supply your Need . No more — for I ( as many Teachers do ) Shew my own Folly by instructing you ; And you perhaps disdain my wholsom Rules ; So saucy Pupils count their Masters Fools : But shou'd your Pride the common Track refuse , You'll find small Pensions for your haughty Muse : Still you may scribble on ; and in the End Be just as rich as — Sir , your humble Friend .