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Have you observ'd a sitting harr,

“ Search, then,” she said, “ put in your hand, Listening, and fearful, of the storm

And Cynthia, dear protectress, guard me: Of horns and hounds, clap back her car,

As guilty 1, or free., may stand, Afraid to keep, or leave her form?

Do thou or punish or reward me." Or hare you mark'd a partridge quake,

But ah? what maid to Love can trust! Viewing the towering falcon nigh?

He scorns, and breaks, all legal power : She cuddles low behind the brake:

Into her breast his hand he thrust; Nor would she stay; nor dares she fly.

And in a moment forc'd it lower. Then have you sorn the beauteous maid;

0, whither do those fingers rove,” When gazing on her midnight foes,

Cries Cloe, “ treacherous urchin, whither?» She turn'd rach way her frighted head,

“ O Venus! I shall And thy Dove," Then sunk it deep beneath the clothes.

Says he ; for sure I touch his feather."
Venus this while was in the chamber

Incognito : for Susan said,
It smelt so strong of myrrh and amber
And Susan is no lying maid.

But, since we have no present need
Of Venus for an episode :

As Cloe came into the room t'other day,
With Cup.d let us e'cn proceed;

I peevislı began: Where so long could you star? And thus to Cloe spoke the god :

In your life-time you never regarded your hour;

You promis d at two; and (pray look child,) 'tis “Hold up your head : hold up your hand :

four. Woul i it were not my lot to show ye

A lady's watch needs peither figures nor whers : This cruel writ, wherein you stand

'Tis enough, that'tis loaried with baubles and scals. Indicted by the name of Cloe!

A temper so heedless no mortal can bear," " For that, by secret malice stirrd,

Thus far I went on with a resolute air. (speak!" Or by an emulous pride invited,

Lord bless me!" said she; “ let a boily but You have purloin'd the favourite bird,

H re's an ugly hard rose-bod fallen into my neck: In which my mother most delighted.”

It has hurt me, and vext ine to such a degreece

See here! for you never believe me; pray see, Her blushing face the lovely maid Rais'd just above the milk-white sheet;

On the left side my breast, what a mark it has

made!” A rose-tree in a lily bed Nor glows so red, nor breathes so

So saying, her besoin she careless display'd:

That seat of delight I with wonder survey'd " Are ye not he whom virgins fear, And widows court? is not your name

And forgot every word I design'd to have said. Cupid ? If so, pray come not ncar

« Fair maiden, I'm the very same. Then what have I, good sir, to say, Or do with her you call your mouer!

MERCURY AND CUPID If I should meet hier in my way,

Is sullen humour one day Jove We hardly court'sy to each other.

Sent llerines down to Ida's grove, “ Diana chaste, and Hebe sweet,

Commanding Cupid to deliver Witness that what I speak is true ;

His store of darts, his total quiver; I would not give my paroquet

That Herines should the weapons break, For all the Doves that ever flew.

Or throw them into Lethe's lake.

Hermes, you know, must do bis errandy Yet, to compose this midnight noise,

Ile founel his inan, produc'd his warrant : Go freely search where-e'er you please,

Cupid ! your darts--this very hour(The rage, that rajs’d, adora'd her voice)

There's no contending against power!" Upon yon tilit lie my keys

How sullen Jupiter, just now, Her keys b- takes; her doors unlocks ;

I think I said, and you'll allow Through wardrobe and through closet bounces; That Cupid was as bad as he: Peeps into every chest and box;

Hear but the youngster's repartee. Turns all her furbeloes and founces.

Come, kinsman,” said the little god, But dove, depend on't, finds he none;

Put url your wings, lay by your rod ; So to the bed returns again :

Retire with me to yonder bower, And now the maiden, bolder grown,

And rest yourself for half an hour: Bigins to treat him with disdain.

'Tis far indced from hence to Heaven;

But you fiy fast: and 'tis but seven. " I marvel much,” she smiling said,

We'll take one cooling cup of nectar; “ Your poultry cannot yet be found

And drink to this celestial Hector. Lies he in yonder slipper dead?

He break my darts! or hurt my power Or, may be, in the tea-pot drown'l?»

He, Leda's swan and Danaë's shower! No, traitor,” angry Love réplies,

Go, bid him his wise tongue restrain, “ He's hid somewhere about your breast; And mind his thunder, and his rain. A place nor god nor man denies,

My darts! O certainly I'll give 'em : For Venus's Dove the proper nest.”

Fromn Cloe's eyes he shall receive 'eru.

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ON BEAUTY.. THE QUESTION. LISETTA'S REPLY. There's one, the best in all my quiver,

Here listening Cloe smild, and said: Twang! through his very heart and liver;

" Your riddle is not hard to read: He then shall pine, and sigh, and rave:

I guess it."-"Fair one, if you do, Good Lord! what bustle shall we have!

Need I, alas! the theme pursue? Neptune must straight be sent to sea,

For this, thou seest, for this I leave And Flora summon'd twice a day:

Whate'er the world thinks wise or grave, One must find shells, and t' other flowers,

Ambition, business, friendship, news, For cooling grots, and fragrant bowers,

My useful books, and serious Muse. That Cloe may be serv'd in state,

For this, I willingly decline The Hours must at her toilet wait:

The mirth of feasts, and joys of wine; W blist all the reasoning fools below

And choose to sit and talk with thee Wonder their watches go too slow.

(As thy great orders may decree) Lybs musi fly south, and Eurus east,

Of cocks and bulls, and flutes and fiddles,
For jewels for her hair and breast.

Of idle tales and foolish riddles.”
No matter, though their crucl naste
Sink cities, and lay forests waste.
No matter, though this fleet be lost;
Or that lie wind-bound on the coast,

What whispering in my mother's ear!

What care, that Juno should not hear!
What work among you scholar gods!

Want nymph should I admire or trust,
Platus must write him amorous odes.

But Cloe beauteous, Cloe just? And thou, poor consin, must compose

What nymph hould I desire to see, His letters in submissive prose;

But ber who leaves the plain for me? Whilst haughty Cloe, to sustain

To whom should I compose the lay, The honour of my mystic reign,

But her who listens when I play? Shall all his gifts and vous disilain,

To whom in song repeat my cares, And laugh at your old bully's pain."

But her who in iny sorrow shares?
Dear couz,” said Hernies, in a fright, For whom should I the garland make?
Por Heaven's sake! keep your darts! good night.” But her who joys the gift to take,

And boa-ts she wears it for my sake.
In love am I not fully blest?

Lisetta, prythee tell the rest.

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Resolve me, Cloe, what is this:
Or forfeit me one precious kiss.
'Tis the first ofispring of the Graces;
Bears different forms in different places;
Acknowledg'd fine, where'er beheld;
Yet fancied finer, when conceal'd.
'Twas Flora's wealth, and Circe's charm;
Papriora's box of good and harm:
'Txas Mars's wish, Endymion's dream;
Aplies' draught, and Ovid's theme.
This guided Theseus through the maze;
And sent hiin home with life and praise ;
Bat this endid the Phrygian boy;
And blew the fames that ruin'd Troy.
This show'd great kindness to old Greece,
And help'd rich Jason to the fleece.
This through the East just vengeance hurld,
And lost poor Anthony the world.
Injura, though Lucrece found her doom,
This banish'd tyranny from Roine.
Appeas'd, though Lais gain'd her hire,
This set Persepolis on fire.
For this Alciles learn'd to spin:
His club laid down, and lion's skin.
For this Apollo deign'd to keep,
With servile care, a mortal's sheep,
For this the father of the gods,
Content to leave his high abodes,
In borrow'd figures loosely ran,
Europa's bull, and Leda's swan:
Por this he re-assumes the nod,
(While Semele commands the god)
Launches the bolt, and shakes the poles:
Though Momus laughs, and Juno scolds.

Sure Cloe just, and Cloe fair,
Deserves to be your only care:
But, wh«n you and she today
Far into the wood did stray,
And I happen'd to pass by ;
Which way did you cast your eye?
But, when your cares to her you sing,
Yet dare not tell her whence they spring ?
Does it not more afflict your heart,
That in those cares she bears a part?
When you the flowers for Cloe twine,
Why do you to her garland join
- The meanest bud that falls from mine?
Simplest of swains! the world may see
Whom Cloe loves, and who loves me.

The pride of every grove I chose,

The violet sweet and lily fair,
The dappled pink, and blushing rose,

To deck my charıning Cloe's hair.
At morn the nymph vouchsafd to place

l'pon her brow the various wreath;
The flowers less blooming than her face,

The scent less fragrant than her breath.
'The flowers she wore along the day:

And every nymph and shepherd said,
That in her hair they look'd more gay

Than glowing in their native bed.

Undrest at evening, when she found

When in my glass I chanc'd to look ; Their odours lost, their colours past;

Of Venus what did I implore? She chang'd her look, and on the ground

That every grace, which thence I took, Her garland and her eye she cast.

Should know to charm my Damon more. That eye dropt sense distinct and clear,

Reading thy verse; “ Who heeds," said I, As any Muse's tongue could speak,

“ If here or there his glances fiew? When from its lid a pearly tcar

O, free for ever be his eye, Ran trickling down her beauteous cheek.

Whose heart to me is always true !"

My bloom indeed, my little flower Dissembling what I knew too well, “ My love, my life," said I, explain

Of Beauty quickly lost its pride:

For, sever'd from its native bower, This change of humour: pr'ythee tell :

It on thy glowing bosom dy'd. That falling tear-what does it mean?"

Yet card I not what might presage She sigh'd; she smil'd: and, to the flowers

Or withering wreath, or fleeting youth; Pointing, the lovely moralist said :

Love I esteem'd more strong than Age, See, friend, in some few fleeting hours,

And Time less permanent than Truthe See yonder, what a change is made !

Why then I weep, forbear to know : “ Ah, me! the blooming pride of May,

Fall uncontrollid, my tears, and free; And that of Beauty, are but onc:

O Damon! tis the only woe, At mom both flourish bright and gay ;

I ever yet conceal'd from thee. Both fade at evening, pale, and gone.

The secret wound with which I bleed At dawn poor Stella danc'd and sung;

Shall lie wrapt up, ev'n in my hearse; The amorous youth around her bow'd :

But on my tonb-stone thou shalt read At night her fatal knell was rung;

My answer to thy dubious verse. I saw, and kiss'd her in her shroud. “ Such as she is, who died today;

Such I, alas! may be tomorrow : Go, Damon, bid thy Muse display

ANSWER TO CHLOE JEALOUS, The justice of thy Cloe's sorrow.

IN THE SAME STYLE; THE AUTHOR SICE. Yes, fairest proof of Beauty's power,

Dear idol of my panting heart,

Nature points this my fatal hour:
THE LADY WHO OFFERS HER LOOKING. And I have liv'd; and we must part

While now I take my last adieu,

Heave thou no sigh, nor shed a tear;

Lest yet my half-clos'd eye may view
Venus, take my votive glass;

On earth an object worth its care. Since I am not what I was,

From Jealousy's torinenting strife What from this day I shall be,

For ever be thy bosom freed : Venus, let me never set.

That nothing may disturb thy life,

Content I hasten to the dead.
Yet when some better-fated youth

Shall with his amorous parley move thee;

Reflect one moment on his truth
FORBEAR to ask me, why I weep;

Who, dying thus, persists to love thee.
Vext Cloe to her shepherd said;
'Tis for iny two poor straggling sheep,
Perhaps, or for my squirrel dead.

For mind I what you late have writ?
Your subtle questions and replies?

Dear Cloe, how blubber'd is that pretty face! Emblems, to teach a female wit

Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hair all uncurl'd: The ways, where changing Capid Aics ?

Pr’ythce quit this caprice; and (as old Falstaff says) Your riddle purpos'd to rehearse

Let us ev'n talk a little like folks of this world. The general power that beauty has :

How canst thou presume, thou hast leave to destroy But why did not peculiar verse

The beauties, which Venus but lent to thy keepDescribe one charm of Cloe's face ?

ing? The glass, which was at Venus' shrine,

Those looks were design'd to inspire love and joy: With sneh niysterious sorrow laid:

More ordinary eyes may serve people for weepe The garland (and you call it mine)

ing. Which show'd how youth and beauty fade : To be vext at a trifle or two that I writ, Ten thousand trifles light as these

Your judgment at once, and my passion, you Nor can my raze, nor anger, inove :

wrong: She should be bumble, who would please ;

You take that for fact,which will scarce be found wit: And she must sufler, who can love.

Od’s-life! must one swear to the truth of a song! PALLAS AND VENUS.. A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN LOVE. 133 What I speak, my fair Cloe, and what I write, | To sum up all the rage of Pate shows

In the two things I dread and hate,
The difference there is betwixt Nature and Art: May'st thou be false, and I be great !”
I court others in verse ; but I love thee in prose : Thus, on his Celia's panting breast,
And they have my whimsics, but thou hast my Fong Celadon his soul exprest;

While with delight the lovely maid

Receiv'd the vows she thus repaid : 'The god of us verse-men, (you know,child) the Sun, How after his journeys he sets up his rest :

Hope of my age, joy of my youth,

Blest miracle of love and truth; If at morning o'er earth 'tis his fancy to run;

All that could e'er be counted mine, At night he declines on his Thetis's breast.

My love and life, long since are thine; So when I am weary'd with wandering all day, A real joy I never knew,

To thee my delight in the evening I come : Till I believ'd thy passion true :
No matter what beauties I saw in my way;

A real grief I ne'er can find,
They were but my visits, but thou art my home. Till thou prov'st perjur'd, or unkind.

Contempt, and poverty, and care,
Then finish, dear Cloe, this pastoral war;

All we abhor, and all we fear, And let us like Horace and Lydia agree :

Blest with thy presence, I can bear. For thou art a girl as much brighter than her,

Through waters and through flames I'll go,
As he was a poet sublimer than ine.

Suflerer and solace of thy woe :
Trace me soine yet unheard-of way,
That I thy ardour may repay ;

And make my constant passion known

By more than woman yet has done.

“ Had I a wish that did not bear

The stamp and image of my dear,
The Trojan swain had judy'd the great dispute, I'd pierce my heart through every vein,
And Beauty's power obtain'd the golden fruit; And die, to let it out again.
When Venus, loose in all her naked charms, No: Venus shall my witness be
Met Jore's great daughter clad in shining arms. (If Venus ever lov'd like me),
The Fanton goddess view'd the warlike maid That for one hour I would not quit
From head to foot, and tauntingly she said : My shepherd's arms, and this retreat,
“ Yield, sister; rival, yield : naked, you see,

To be the Persian monarch's bride,
I vanquish : guess how potent I should be,

Partner of all his power and pride ; If to the field I came in armour drest;

Or rule in regal state above, Dreadful, like tbine, my shield, and terrible my | Mother of gods, and wife of Jove." crest!”

( happy these of human race! The warrior goddess, with disdain, reply'd : But soon, alas! our pleasures pass. “ Thy folly, child, is equal to thy gods:

He thank'd her on his bended knee; Let a brave enemy for once advise,

Then drank a quart of milk and tea; And Venus (if 'tis possible) be wise.

And leaving her ador'd embrace,
Thou, to be strong, must put off every dress : Hasten'd to court, to beg a place.
Thy only armour is thy nakedness;

While she, his absence to bemoan,
And inore than once (or thou art much bely'd) The very moment he was gone,
By Mars himself that armour has been try'd." Call’d Thyrsis from beneath the bed!

Where all this time he had been hid.





While men have these ambitious fancies;
And wanton Wenches read romances ;
Our sex will-What? Out with it. Lye;
And theirs in equal strains reply.
The moral of the tale I sing
(A posy for a wedding ring)
In this short verse will be confin'd:
Love is a jest, and vows are wind.

“ From public noise and factious strife,
From all the busy ills of life,
Take me, my Celia, to thy breast;
And lull my wearied soul to rest.
For ever, in this humble cell,
Let thee and I, my fair one, dwell;
None enter else, but Love-and he
Shall bar the door, and keep the key.

“ 'To painted roof and shining spires
(Uneasy seats of high desires)
Let the unthinking many crowel,
That dare be covetous and proud:
In golden bondage let them wait,
And baiter happiness for state.
But oh! my Celia, when thy swain
Desires to see a court again,
May Heaven around this destin'd head
The choicest of its curses shed !

Miss Danaë, when fair and young,
(As Horace has divinely sung)
Could not be kept froin Jove's embrace
By doors of steel, and wally of brass.
The reason of the thing is clear,
Would Jove the naked truth aver.
Cupid was with him of the party,
And show d himself sincere and hearty;

Tor, give that whipster but his errand,

Be to her virtues very kind; He takes my lord chief justice' warrant:

Be to her faults a little blind; Dauntless as Death, away he walks;

Let all her ways be unconfin'd; Breaks the doors open, snaps the locks;

And clap your padlock-on her mind." Searches the parlour, chamber, study; Nor stops till he has culprit's body.

“ Since this has been authentic truth,
By age delivered down to youth;
Tell us, mistaken husband, tell us,

Why so mysterious, why so jealous ?
Does the restraint, the bolt, the bar,

Hans Carver., impotent and oid,
Make us less curious, her less fair?

Married a lass of London mold: The spy, which does this treasure keep,

Handsomne? enough; extremely gay: Does she ne'er say her prayers, nor sleep!

Lov'd music, company, and play: Does she to no excess incline?

High flights she had, and it at will; Does she fly music, mirth, and wine?

And so her tongue lay seldom still : Or bave not gold and flattery power

For, in all visits, who but she, To purchase one unguarded hour?”

To argue, or to repartée ? “ Your care does further yet extend:

She made it plain, that human passion That spy is guarded by your friend."

Was order'd by predestination; “ But has this friend nor eye nor heart?

That, if weak women went astray, May he not feel the cruel dart,

Their stars were more in fault than they Which, soon or late, all mortals feel?

Whole tragedies she had by heart; May he not, with too tender zeal,

Enter'd into Roxana's part: Give the fair prisoner cause to see,

To triumph in her rival's blood, How much he wishes she were free?

The action certainly was good. May he not craftily infer

“ How like a vine young Ammon cur!'d! The rules of friendship too severe,

Oh that dear congueror of the world !" Which chain him to a hated trust;

She pitied Betterron in age, Which make him wretched, to be just?

That ridicul'd the god-like rage. And may not she, this darling she,

She, first of all the town, was told, Youthful and healthy, Acsh and blood,

Where newest India things were sold: Easy with him, ill usd by thee,

So in a morning, without bodice, Allow this logic to be good ?

Slipt sometimes out to Mrs. Thody's; “Sir, will your questions never end?

To cheapen tea, to buy a screen: I trust to neither spy nor friend.

What else could so much virtue mean? In short, I kcep her from the sight

Por, to prevent the least reproach, Of every human face."--" She'll write."

Betty went with her in the coach. From pen and paper she's debarr'd."

But, when no very great affair “ Has she a bodkin and a card ?

Excited her peculiar care, She'll prick her mind."" She will, you say:

She, without fail, was wak'd at ten; But how shall she that mind convey ?

Drank chocolate, then slept again : I keep her in one rooin: I lock it:

At twelve she rose; with much ado The key (look here) is in this pocket."

Her clothes were huddled on by two; “ The key - hole, is that left ?" '--" Most cer- Then, “ Does my lady dine at home?" tain."

"Yes, sure !"-" But is the colonel come !! " She'll thrust her letter through, sir Martin." Next, how to spend the afternoon,

Dear, angry friend, what must be done? And not come home again too soon; Is there no way?"-" There is but one.

The change, the city, or the play, Send her abroad : and let her see,

As each was proper for the day: That all this mingled mass, which she,

A turn, in summer, to Hyde-park, Being forbidden, longs to know,

When it grew tolerably dark. Is a dull farce, an empty show,

Wife's pleasure causes husband's pain: Powder, and pocket-glass, and beau ;

Strange fancies come in Hans's brain: A staple of romance and lies,

He thought of what he did not name; False tears and real perjuries :

And would reforın, but durst not blame. Where sighs and looks are bought and sold,

At first he therefore preach'd his wife And love is made but to be told:

The comforts of a pious life : Where the fat bawd and lavish heir

Told her, how transient beauty was; The spoils of ruin'd beauty share;

That all must die, and flesh was grass : And youth, seduc'd from friends and fame,

He bought her sermons, psalms and graces, Must give up age to want and shame.

And doubled down the useful places. Let her behold the frantic scene,

But still the weight of worldly care The women wretched, false the men :

Allow'd her little time for prayer: And when, these certain ills to shun,

And Cleopatra was read o'er; She would to thy embraces run;

While Scot, and Wake, and twenty more, Receive her with extended arins,

That teach one to deny one's-self, Scem more delighted with her charms;

Stood unmolested on the shelf. Wait on her to the Park and play;

An untouch'd Bible grac'd her toilet: Put on good-bumour; make her gay;

No fear that thumb of hers should spoil it

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