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Content to leave his high abodes,
Here listening Cloe smild and said ;
THE QUESTION, TO LISETTA.
AZHAT nymph should I admire, or trust,
But Cloe beauteous, Cloe just ?
But her who leaves the plain for me?
But her who listens when I play?
MoURE, Cloe just, and Cloe fair,
- Far into the wood did stray,
HE pride of every grove I chose,
At morn the nymph vouchsaf’d to place
The flowers less blooming than her face,
The flowers she wore along the day:
That in her hair they look'd more gay
Undrest at evening when she found
She chang'd her look, and on the ground
That eye dropt sense distinct and clear,
When from its lid a pearly tear
Dissembling what I knew too well,
This change of humour: pr’ythee, tell:
She sigh'd; she smil'd : and to the flowers
Pointing, the lovely moralist said · See, friend, in some few fleeting hours,
See yonder, what a change is made.
Ah me! the blooming pride of May,
And that of beauty are but one:
Both fade at evening, pale, and gone.
At dawn poor Stella danc'd and sung ;
The amorous youth around her bow'd ; At night her fatal knell was rung;
and kiss'd her in her shroud.
Such as she is, who died to-day,
Such I, alas ! may be to-morrow; Go, Damon, bid thy Muse display
The justice of thy Cloe's sorrow.
THE LADY WHO OFFERS HER LOOKING
GLASS TO VENUS.*
ENUS, take my votive glass ;
Since I am not what I was,
* Taken from an epigram of Plato. See Rambler. Samber 143.
ORBEAR to ask me, why I weep;
Vex'd Cloe to her shepherd said ; 'Tis for my two poor straggling sheep
Perhaps, or for my squirrel dead. For mind I what you late have writ?
Your subtle questions, and replies ; Emblems, to teach a female wit
The ways, where changing Cupid flies. Your riddle purpos’d to rehearse
The general power that beauty has ; But why did no peculiar verse
Describe one charm of Cloe's face ? The glass, which was at Venus' shrine,
With such mysterious sorrow laid : The garland (and you call it mine)
Which show'd how youth and beauty fade. Ten thousand trifles light as these
Nor can my rage, nor anger move:
And she must suffer, who can love.
Of Venus what did I implore ?
Should know to charm my Damon more.