Should some wild Indian see the various Scene,
He'd swear all Nations of the Earth do here convene,
And take for quite reverse this medley Farce,
Think Strumpers Saints, or catstick'd Beau a Mars.
But now the Dancers nimble Feet go round,
And with just Measures beat the passive Ground,
Each one inclines to different Delights—
Musick the Fair, Sweetmeats the Beau invite;
The Templar wisely does his Care enroll,
Pockets the Pheasant, and eats up the Fowls