On a MESSAGE-CARD in Verse. Sent by a LADY. William Whitehead 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. T131163 K104099.002 Dodsley, Robert, 1703-1764. A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes. By Several Hands. Vol. II. London printed by J. Hughs, for R. and J. Dodsley 1763 [1st ed. 1758] pp. 263-265. 6v.: music; 8⁰.

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On a MESSAGE-CARD in Verse . Sent by a LADY . By the Same . HERMES , the gamester of the sky , To share for once mankind's delights , Slip'd down to earth , exceeding sly , And bade his coachman drive to White's . In form a beau ; so light he trips , You'd swear his wings were at his heels ; From glass to glass alert he skips , And bows and prattles while he deals . In short , so well his part he play'd , The waiters took him for a peer ; And ev'n some great ones whisp'ring said He was no vulgar foreigner . Whate'er he was , he swept the board , Won every bett , and every game ; Stript even the Rooks , who stampt and roar'd , And wonder'd how the devil it came ! He wonder'd too , and thought it hard ; But found at last this great command Was owing to one fav'rite card , Which still brought luck into his hand . The four of spades ; whene'er he saw Its sable spots , he laugh'd at rules , Took odds beyond the gaming law , And Hoyle and Philidor were fools . But now , for now 'twas time to go , What gratitude shall he express ? And what peculiar boon bestow Upon the cause of his success ? Suppose , for something must be done , On Juno's self he cou'd prevail To pick the pips out , one by one , And stick them in her peacock's tail , Shou'd Pallas have it , was a doubt , To twist her silk , or range her pins ; Or should the Muses cut it out , For bridges to their violins . To Venus should the prize be giv'n , Superior beauty's just reward , And 'gainst the next great rout in heaven Be sent her for a message card . Or hold — by Jove , a lucky hit ! Your goddesses are arrant farces ; Go , carry it to Mrs. — And bid her fill it full of verses .