XII.

She wak'd, be fure, with ftrange Surprize.

O CUPID, is this Right or Law, Thus to disturb the brighteft Eyes,

That ever slept, or ever faw?

XIII.

Have You obferv'd a fitting Hare,

Lift'ning, and fearful of the Storm
Of Horns and Hounds, clap back her Ear,
Afraid to keep, or leave her Form?

XIV.

Or have You mark'd a Partridge quake,
Viewing the tow'ring Faulcon nigh?
She cuddles low behind the Brake:

Nor wou'd fhe stay: nor dares fhe fly.
XV.

Then have You feen the Beauteous Maid;

When gazing on her Midnight Foes,
She turn'd each Way her frighted Head,

Then funk it deap beneath the Cloaths.
XVI.

VENUS this while was in the Chamber

Incognito: for SUSAN faid,

It smelt fo ftrong of Myrrh and Amber-
And SUSAN is no lying Maid.

XVII.

But fince We have no prefent Need
Of VENUS for an Episode;

With CUPID let us e'en proceed;

And thus to CLOE fpoke the God:

XVIII. Hold

XVIII.

Hold up your Head: hold up your Hand:
Wou'd it were not my Lot to fhow ye
This cruel Writ, wherein you ftand
Indicted by the Name of CLOE:
XIX.

For that by fecret Malice ftirr'd,
Or by an emulous Pride invited,
You have purloin'd the fav'rite Bird,

In which my Mother most delighted.
XX.

Her blufhing Face the lovely Maid

Rais'd just above the milk-white Sheet.

A Rofe-Tree in a Lilly Bed,

Nor glows fo red, nor breathes fo fweet.
XXI.

Are You not He whom Virgins fear,

And Widows court? Is not your Name CUPID? If fo, pray come not near

Fair Maiden, I'm the very fame.

XXII.

Then what have I, good Sir, to fay,

Or do with Her, You call your Mother?

If I fhou'd meet Her in my Way,

We hardly court'fy to each other.

XXIII.

DIANA Chafte, and HEBE Sweet,
Witness that what I fpeak is true:

I wou'd not give my Paroquet

For all the DOVES that ever flew.

XXIV. Yet

XXIV.

Yet, to compose this Midnight Noise,
Go freely fearch where-e'er you please:
(The Rage that rais'd, adorn'd Her Voice)
Upon yon' Toilet lie my Keys.

XXV.

Her Keys He takes; her Doors unlocks;

Thro' Wardrobe, and thro' Closet bounces;

Peeps into ev'ry Cheft and Box;

Turns all her Furbeloes and Flounces.

XXVI.

But Dov E, depend on't, finds He none;
So to the Bed returns again:
And now the Maiden, bolder grown,
Begins to treat Him with Difdain.

XXVII.

I marvel much, She fmiling faid,

Your Poultry cannot yet be found:

Lies he in yonder Slipper dead,

Or, may be, in the Tea-pot drown'd?
XXVIII.

No, Traytor, angry Love replies,

He's hid fomewhere about Your Breaft;

A Place, nor God, nor Man denies,

For VENUS' DOVE the proper Nest.

XXIX.

Search then, She faid, put in your Hand,

And CYNTHIA, dear Protect refs, guard Me:

As guilty I, or free may ftand,

Do Thou, or punish, or reward Me

XXX. But

XXX.

But ah! what Maid to Love can trust?
He scorns, and breaks all Legal Power:
Into her Breaft his Hand He thrust;
And in a Moment forc'd it lower.
XXXI.

O, whither do those Fingers rove,

Cries CLOE, treacherous Urchin, whither?

O VENUS! I fhall find thy DoVE,

Says He; for fure I touch his Feather.

A LOVER's

ANGER.

S CLOE came into the Room t'other Day,

I peevish began; Where fo long cou'd You stay?
In your Life-time You never regarded your Hour:
You promis'd at Two; and (pray look Child) 'tis Four.
A Lady's Watch needs neither Figures nor Wheels:
'Tis enough, that 'tis loaded with Baubles and Seals.
A Temper fo heedless no Mortal can bear
Thus far I went on with a refolute Air.

Lord blefs Me! faid She; let a Body but fpeak:
Here's an ugly hard Rofe-Bud fall'n into my Neck:
It has hurt Me, and vext Me to fuch a Degree
See here; for You never believe Me; pray fee,
On the left Side my Breaft what a Mark it has made.
So faying, her Bofom She careless display'd.
That Seat of Delight I with Wonder furvey'd ;
And forgot ev'ry Word I defign'd to have said.
Ꮓ

MER

MERCURY and CUPID.

IN fullen Humour one Day Jove

Sent HERMES down to IDA's Grove,
Commanding CUPID to deliver

His Store of Darts, his total Quiver;
That HERMES fhou'd the Weapons break,
Or throw 'em into LETHE' Lake.

HERMES, You know, must do his Errand: He found his Man, produc'd his Warrant: CUPID, your Darts-this very HourThere's no contending against Power.

How fullen JUPITER, just now I think I faid: and You'll allow, That CUPID was as bad as He: Hear but the Youngster's Repartće.

Come Kinfman (faid the little God)
Put off your Wings; lay by your Rod;
Retire with Me to yonder Bower ;
And reft your felf for half an Hour:
'Tis far indeed from hence to Heav'n:
And You fly faft: and 'tis but Seven.
We'll take one cooling Cup of Nectar;
And drink to this Celestial Hector

He