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upon the fame terms as Ben does with his Father in the Comedy *:

"What thof he be my Father, I an't bound Prentice "to 'en."

There were many reasons why the Imitator tranfpofed feveral Verfes of Ovid, and has divided the whole into Fourteen Parts, rather than keep it in Three Books. Thefe may be too tedious to be recited; but, among the reft, fome were, that matters of the fame fubject might lie more compact; that too large a heap of precepts together might appear too burthenfome; and therefore (if fmall matters may allude to greater) as Virgil in his " Georgicks," fo here most of the parts end with fome remarkable Fable, which carries with it fome Moral: yet, if any perfons please to take the Six. firft Parts as the First Book, and divide the Eight last, they may make Three Books of them again. There have by chance fome twenty lines crept into the Poem › out of the "Remedy of Love," which (as inanimate things are generally the most wayward and provoking): fince they would stay, have been suffered to stand there. But as for the Love here mentioned, it being all pru-dent, honourable, and virtuous, there is no need of any remedy to be prefcribed for it, but the fpeedy ob- taining of what it defires. Should the Imitator's ftyle feem not to be fufficiently reftrained, fhould he not have afforded pains for review or correction, let it be

* Congreve's Loye for Love. N.

confidered, that perhaps even in that he defired to imi tate his Author, and would not peruse them; left, as. fome of Ovid's Works were, fo thefe might be committed to the flames. But he leaves that for the Reader: to do, if he pleafes, when he has bought them.

THE

THE

ART OF LOVE.

PART I.

WHOEVER knows not what it is TO LOVE,

Let him but read thefe verfes, and improve.
Swift fhips are rul'd by art, and oars, and fails:
Skill guides our chariots; Wit o'er Love prevails.
Automedon with reins let loofe could fly;
Tiphys with Argo's ship cut waves and sky.
In Love-affairs I'm charioteer of Truth,
And fureft pilot to incautious youth.
Love 's hot, unruly, eager to enjoy ;
But then confider he is but a boy.

Chiron with pleafing harp Achilles tam'd,

And his rough manners with foft mufick fram'd:
Though he'd in council form, in battle rage,
He bore a fecret reverence for age.

Chiron's command with ftrict obedience ties
The finewy arm by which brave Hector dies:
That was his task, but fiercer Love is mine:
They both are boys, and fprung from race divine.
The fliff-neck'd bull does to the yoke fubmit,
And the moft fiery courfer champs the bit.

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So Love fhall yield. I own, I've been his flave;
But conquer'd where my enemy was brave:
And now he darts his flames without a wound,
And all his whistling arrows die in sound.
Nor will I raise my fame by hidden art;
In what I teach, found reafon fhall have part:
For Nature's paffion cannot be deftroy'd,

But moves in Virtue's path when well employ'd.
Yet ftill 'twill be convenient to remove
The tyranny and plagues of vulgar love.

May infant Chastity, grave matron's pride,
A parent's with, and blushes of a bride,
Protect this Work; fo guard it, that no rhyme
In fyllable or thought may vent a crime !
The Soldier, that Love's armour would defy,
Will find his greateft courage is to fly:
When Beauty's amorous glances parley beat,
The only conqueft then is to retreat :
But, if the treacherous Fair pretend to yield,
Tis prefent death unless you quit the field.
Whilft youth and vanity would make you range,
Think on fome beauty may prevent your change:
But fuch by falling fkies are never caught;
No happiness is found but what is fought:

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The huntfman learns where does trip o'er the lawn, 45
And where the foaming boar fecures his brawn.
The fowler's low-bell robs the lark of fleep;
And they who hope for fish muft fearch the deep:
And he, that fuel feeks for chafte defire,
Muft fearch where Virtue may that flame inspire.

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To foreign parts there is no need to roam:
The bleffing may be met with nearer home.
From India fome, others from neighbouring France,
Bring tawny fkins, and puppets that can dance.

The Seat of British Empire does contain

Beauties that o'er the conquer'd globe will reign.
As fruitful fields with plenty blefs the fight,
And as the milky way adorns the night;

So that does with those graceful nymphs abound,
Whofe dove-like foftness is with rofes crown'd.
There tenderest blooms inviting foftness spread,
Whilft by their smallest twine the captive 's led.
There youth advanc'd in majesty does shine,
Fit to be mother to a race divine.
No age in matrons, no decay appears;
By prudence only there you guess at years.

Sometimes you 'll fee thefe Beauties feek the fhade

By lofty trees in royal gardens made;

Or at St. James's, where a noble care
Makes all things pleafing like himself appear;
Or Kenfington, fweet air and bleft retreat
Of him, that owns a Sovereign, though most great

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* George Prince of Denmark, confort to the Queen, greatly admired thefe fine gardens. They were purchafed by King William from Lord Chancellor Finch; were enlarged by Queen Mary; and improved by Queen Anne, who was fo pleafed with the place, that the frequently fupped during the fummer in the Green-house. Queen Caroline extended the gardens to their present fize, three miles and a half in compafs. N.

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