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338 Obliging all, you fear no harm From Disappointment’s angry arm,
 * No cudgels, sneers, or libels;

Alike you smile on worst and best, From great Rubens and Quaker West,
 * To wooden cuts for Bibles.

Lo! next the Gallic thunderbolt, Some nameless, shapeless, ugly dolt,
 * His plastic phiz advances;

And vestal footsteps lightly tread, And Cupids sport around the head
 * Of gentle Doctor Francis.

While placed on high exalted pegs, Apollo blushes for his legs,
 * And mourns his severed fingers;

Some amorous wight, with passion drunk, O’er Cytherea’s headless trunk
 * Luxuriously lingers.

Here Danaë rolls her humid eyes To meet the ruler of the skies
 * In tricks that please old Satan;

And there our eyes delighted trace The scarlet coat and lily face
 * Of gallant Captain Creighton.71