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Within the earth I bid him ftand,

Then chafe and cherish either hand
Between my palms, and wring, with care,
The trickling water from his hair.

Now come, faid he, no longer chill,
We'll bend this bow, and try our skill,
And prove the string, how far its power
Remains unslacken'd by the shower.
He bends his bow, and culls his quiver,
And pierces, like a breeze, my l liver:
Then leaping, laughing, as he fled,
Rejoice with me, my host, he said:
My bow is found in every part,

And you shall rue it at your heart.

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AN HYMN TO VENUS,

From the GREEK of SAP P HO.

I.

VENUS, beauty of the skies,

To whom a thousand temples rife,

Gayly falfe in gentle fimiles,

Full of love-perplexing wiles,

O, goddess! from my heart remove
The wasting cares and pains of love.

II.

If ever thou hast kindly heard
A song in soft diftress prefer'd,
Propitious to my tuneful vow,
O, gentle goddess! hear me now.

Defcend,

Defcend, thou bright, immortal guest,
In all thy radiant charms confefs'd.

III.

Thou once didft leave almighty Jove,
And all the golden roofs above:
The car thy wanton fparrows drew;
Hovering in air they lightly flew ;

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What frenzy in my bofom rag'd,
And by what care to be assuag'd?
What gentle youth I would allure,
Whom in my artful toils fecure?
Who does thy tender heart fubdue,
Tell me, my Sappho, tell me who?

VI.

Though now he fhuns thy longing arms,
He foon fhall court thy flighted charms;
Though now thy offerings he despise,
He foon to thee shall facrifice;

Though now he freeze, he foon fhall burn,
And be thy victim in his turn.

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VII, Celef

VII.

Celestial vifitant, once more
Thy needful prefence I implore!
In pity come and ease my grief,
Bring my diftemper'd foul relief:
Favour thy fuppliant's hidden fires,
And give me all my heart defires.

A FRAGMENT OF SAPPH O.

B

I.

LESS D as the immortal gods is he,

The youth who fondly fits by thee, And hears and fees thee all the while Softly speak, and sweetly smile.

II.

'Twas this depriv'd my foul of rest,
And rais'd fuch tumults in my breast;
For while I gaz'd, in transport toss'd,
My breath was gone, my voice was lost.
III.

My bofom glow'd; the fubtle flame

Ran quickly through all my vital frame;

O'er my
dim eyes a darkness hung,
My ears with hollow murmurs rung.

IV.

In dewy damps my limbs were chill'd,
My blood with gentle horrors thrill'd;
My feeble pulfe forgot to play,
fainted, funk, and dy'd away.

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EPISTLES.

To a Friend, who defired me to write on the Death

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From Holland to a Friend in England, in the

Year 1703.

To the Earl of Dorfet

To the Right Honourable Charles Lord Halifax, one of the Lords Juftices appointed by his Majefty

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To the Honourable James Craggs, Efq; Secretary at War, at Hampton Court

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To the Memory of the late Earl of Halifax

To the Honourable Mifs Carteret

On the Death of the Right Honourable William

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To the Right Honourable William Pulteney, Efq; 361 To Mifs Margaret Pulteney, Daughter of Daniel Pulteney, Efq; in the Nurfery

To Mifs Charlotte Pulteney; in her Mother's

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Arms To the Right Honourable Robert Walpole, Efq; 365 Supplication to Mifs Carteret, in the Small-Pox 368 TMifs Georgina, youngest Daughter to Lord

Carteret

369

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