Love I efteem'd more strong than age,

And time less permanent than truth.

X.

Why then I weep, forbear to know:
Fall uncontroul'd my tears, and free:
O Damon, 'tis the only woe,

I ever yet conceal'd from thee.
XI.

The fecret wound with which I bleed
Shall lie wrapt up, ev'n in my herse:
But on my tomb-stone thou shalt read,
My answer to thy dubious verfe.

Anfwer to CLOE jealous, in the fame ftile.
The Author fick.

I.

ES, faireft proof of beauty's pow'r,
Dear idol of my panting heart,

Nature points this my fatal hour:
And I have liv'd; and we must part.
II. da
While now I take my laft adieu,
Heave thou no figh, nor fhed a tear;
Left yet my half-clos'd eye may view
On earth an object worth its care.

III.

From jealousy's tormenting ftrife
For ever be thy bosom freed:
That nothing may disturb thy life,
Content I haften to the dead.

IV.

Yet when fome better-fated youth

Shall with his am'rous parly move thee,

Reflect one moment on his truth

Who dying thus, perfifts to love thee.

DE

A BETTER ANSWER.

I.

EAR Cloe, how blubber'd is that pretty face? Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hair all uncurl'd: Pr'ythee quit this caprice; and (as old Falstaff says) Let us e'en talk a little like folks of this world.

II.

How can't thou prefume, thou haft leave to destroy The beauties, which Venus but lent to thy keeping? Those looks were defign'd to infpire love and joy: More ord❜nary eyes may serve people for weeping. III.

To be vext at a trifle or two that I writ,

Your judgment at once, and my paffion you wrong: You take that for fact, which will fearce be found wit: Od's life! must one swear to the truth of a fong?

IV.

What I fpeak, my fair Cloe, and what I write, fhows

The difference there is betwixt nature and art: I court others in verfe; but I love thee in profe: And they have my whimfies, but thou haft my

V.

heart.

The god of us verfe-men (you know child) the Sun,
How after his journeys he fets up his reft:

If at morning o'er earth 'tis his fancy to run:
At night he reclines on his Thetis's breast.

VI.

So when I am weary'd with wand'ring all day;
To thee my delight in the evening Icome:

No matter what beauties I faw in my way:

They were but my visits, but thou art my home.

VII.

Then finish, dear Cloe, this paftoral war;

And let us like Horace and Lydia agree":
For thou art a girl as much brighter than her,
As he was a poet sublimer than me.

ΤΗ

PALLAS and VENUS.

An EPIGRAM.

HE Trojan fwain had judg'd the great dispute And beauty's pow'r obtain'd the golden fruit; When Venus, loose in all her naked charms, Met Jove's great daughter clad in shining arms. The wanton goddess view'd the warlike maid From head to foot, and tauntingly she said:

Yield, fifter; rival, yield: naked, you see, I vanquish guess how potent I should be; If to the field I came in armour dreft;

Dreadful, like thine, my shield, and terrible my creft. The warrior goddess with disdain reply'd;

Thy folly, child, is equal to thy pride:

Let a brave enemy for once advise,

And Venus (if 'tis poffible) be wife.

Thou to be strong must put off every drefs:
Thy only armour is thy nakedness:

And more than once, (or thou art much bely'd)

By Mars himself that armour has been try’d.

FR

To a young GENTLEMAN in LOVE.
A TA LE.

R O M publick noise and factious strife,
From all the bufy ills of life,

Take me, my Celia, to thy breaft;
And lull my wearied foul to reft:
For ever, in this humble cell,
Let thee and I, my fair one, dwell;
None enter elfe, but Love

and he

Shall bar the door, and keep the key.
To painted roofs, and shining spires
(Uneasy seats of high desires)
Let the unthinking many croud,
That dare be covetous and proud:
In golden bondage let them wait,
And barter happiness for state:
But oh! my Celia, when thy fwain
Defires to fee a court again;

May heav'n around this deftin'd head
The choiceft of its curses shed:
To fum up all the rage of fate,
In the two things I dread and hate;
May'st thou be falfe, and I be great.

Thus, on his Celia's panting breast,
Fond Celadon his foul expreft;
While with delight the lovely maid
Receiv'd the vows, fhe thus repaid:

Hope of my age, joy of my youth,
Bleft miracle of love and truth!
All that cou'd e'er be counted mine,
My love and life, long fince are thines

A real joy I never knew;

'Till I believ'd thy paffion true:
A real grief I ne'er can find;
'Till thou prov'st perjur'd or unkind.
Contempt, and poverty, and care,
All we abhor, and all we fear,
Bleft with thy presence, I can bear.
Thro' waters, and thro' flames I'll go,
Suff'rer and folace of thy woe:
Trace me fome 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 wifh that did not bear
The ftamp and image ofmy dear;
I'd pierce my heart thro' ev'ry vein,
And die to let it out again..
No: Venus fhall my witness be,
(If Venus ever lov'd like me)

That for one hour I wou'd not quit
My fhepherd's arms, and this retreat,
To be the Perfian monarch's bride,
Part'ner of all his pow'r and pride;
Of rule in regal state above,
Mother of gods, and wife of Jove.
happy thefe of human race!

But foon, alas! our pleasures pafs.
He thank'd her on his bended knee;
Then drank a quart of milk and tea;
And leaving her ador'd embrace,
Haften'd to court to beg a place.
While fhe, his abfence to bemoan,
The very moment he was gone,

}