"Damon, 'tis time we should retire: "The man you talk with is Mat Prior. Patron through life, and from thy birth my friend, Dorfet! to thee, this Fable let me fend: With Damon's lightness weigh thy folid worth: THE FEMALE PHAETON. ΤΗ HUS Kitty, beautiful and young, Bespoke the Fair from whence the fprung, Inflam'd with rage at fad restraint, "Shall I thumb holy books, confin'd Or I am much mistaken. Muft Lady Jenny frisk about, And vifit with her coufins ? At balls must be make all the rout, Lady Catharine Hyde, now duchefs of Queensberry. What has the better, pray, than I, Dearest Mamma! for once let me, I'll foon with Jenny's pride quit score, They 'll grieve I was not loos'd before; Fondness prevail'd, Mamma gave way; Obtain'd the chariot for a day, THE JUDGEMENT OF VENUS. WHEN Kneller's works of various grace Were to fair Venus fhown; The Goddefs fpy'd in every face Some features of her own. Juft fo! (and pointing with her hand) * The Earl of Effex married Lady Jane Hyde. Lady Ranelagh. Q3 When When in the glass, and river too, My face I lately view'd, In colours of this glorious kind* My hair thus flowing with the wind, Sprung from Like this †, diforder'd, wild, forlorn,, Ev'n beautiful in tears. But, viewing Myra plac'd apart, Or I, a Goddefs of the fkies, And muft refign to her the prize, The apple, which I won. But, foon as she had Myra feen, The fparkling eye, the look ferene, The gay and eafy air; With fiery emulation fill'd, The wondering Goddefs cry'd, Or Venus muft to Hyde. *Lady Salisbury. Lady Jane, fifter to the duke of Douglas; afterwards married to Sir John Stewart. DAPHNE ABATE, fair fugitive, abate thy fpeed, Difmifs thy fears, and turn thy beauteous head; With kind regard a panting lover view ; Some ftone may hurt thee, or fome thorn may wound. This care is for himself, as fure as death! One mile has put the fellow out of breath; APOLLO. You fly, alas! not knowing whom you fly; Thank you: DAPHNE. I would not leave my native land. What is to come, by certain arts I know. DAPHNE. Pifh! Partridge has as fair pretence as you. Q4 APOLLO. APOLLO. Behold the beauties of my locks -- A fig ! DAPHNE. That may be counterfeit, a Spanish wig. I fing APOLLO. DAPHNE. That never fhall be Daphne's choice: Syphacio had an admirable voice. APOLLO. Of every herb I tell the myftic power; To certain health the patient I restore; Sent for, carefs'd DAPHNE. Ours is a wholesome air; You'd better go to town, and practise there : APOLLO. For learning fam'd, fine verfes I compofe. So do your brother quacks and brother beaux. APOLLO. From the bent yew I fend the pointed reed, Sure of its aim, and fatal in its speed. DAPHNE. |