Hester Lynch SALUSBURY

When I was at Brussels Lady Torington shewed me a French Riddle of only six Lines upon a Beard—with many Excuses as if Riddles were beneath my Notice. in the Even^g I sent her these Lines.

That quibbling France¹ should chuse my Name
To make a Riddle, moves my Shame;
Whilst all their People du bel Air
Find me the first Thing they can spare;

Yet let them treat me as they may
I still return the following day;
And spite of Anger Shame & Sorrow,
Am sure to come again tomorrow.

What Wonders on my Steps attend!
To Poverty a useful Friend
My Form the Miser’s Heart unlocks
And lures the Peny from his Box;

With varying Climates much affected
Yet by Religion’s Rules directed.
While Asian Realms revere my State
And rich Perfumes my Train await,

Canadia’s Chiefs my Presence loath,
And soft ltalia stops my Growth.
Jew’s, Monks, Mahometans invite me,
But Protestants agree to slight me.

No more! one only Wish have I—

May Lucy’s Eyes my Form descry,
When her great Grandsons hail my Visit,
And younger Children Cry—What is it!

Footnotes

1. The French Revolution was happening when this was written.↩︎