XXIV.

Yet, to compofe this midnight noife,
Go freely fearch where-e'er you please
that rais'd, adorn'd her voice)-

(The rage,

Upon yon' toilet lie my keys.

XXV.

Her keys he takes; her doors unlocks;

Through wardrobe and through closet bounces ; Peeps into every chest and box ;

Turns all her furbeloes and flounces.

XXVI.

But Dove, 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, fhe 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, traitor, angry Love replies,
He's hid fomewhere about your
A place nor god nor man denies,
For Venus Dove the proper neft.

XXIX.

breaft;

Search then, the faid, put in your hand,

And Cynthia, dear protectrefs, guard me:

As guilty I, or free, may ftand,

Do thou or punish or reward me.

XVIII.

Hold up your head: hold up your hand :
Would it were not my lot to fhew 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 favourite bird,
In which my mother moft delighted.
XX.

Her blushing face the lovely maid

Rais'd just above the milk-white sheet;
A rofe-tree in a lily bed

Nor glows fo red, nor breathes so sweet,
XXI.

Are you not he whom virgins fear,
And widows court? is not your name
Cupid? If so, pray come not near
Fair maiden, I'm the very fame.
XXII.

Then what have I, good fir, to fay,
Or do with her you call your mother?
If I should meet her in my way,
We hardly court'fy to each other.
XXIII.

Diana chaste, and Hebe sweet,
Witness that what I fpeak is true:

I would not give my Paroquet
For all the Doves that ever flew.

XXIV. Yet,

XXIV.

Yet, to compofe this midnight noife,
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 ;
Through wardrobe and through closet bounces;
Peeps into every cheft and box;

Turns all her furbeloes and flounces.

XXVI.

But Dove, 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, fhe fmiling faid,
Your poultry cannot yet be found:
Lies he in yonder flipper dead?

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

No, traitor, angry Love replies,

He's hid fomewhere about your breaft;

A place nor god nor man denies,

For Venus' Dove the proper neft.
XXIX.

Search then, the faid, put in your hand,

And Cynthia, dear protectrefs, guard me:

As guilty I, or free, may ftand,

Do thou or punish or reward me.

.XXX.

But ah! what maid to Love can truft?
He fcorns, 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 featlier.

A LOVER'S ANGER.

As Cloe came into the room t' other day,

I peevish began; where fo long could 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 feals. A fo heedlefs no mortal can bear temper Thus far I went on with a refolute air..

Lord bless me! said she; let a body but speak!
Here's an ugly hard rose bud fallen into my neck:
It has hurt me, and vext me to fuch a degree
See here! for you never believe me; pray see,

On the left fide my breast, what a mark it has made
So faying, her bosom she careless display'd.
That feat of delight I with wonder survey'd ;
And forgot every word I defign'd to have said.

MERCURY