XXXIII.

Bright Swords, and crested Helms, and pointed Spears In artful Piles around the Work fhall lye; And Shields indented deep in ancient Wars, Blazon'd with Signs of GALLIC Heraldry; And Standards with diftinguish'd Honors bright, Marks of high Pow'r and National Command, Which VALOIS' Sons, and BOURBON's bore in Fight, Or gave to Foix', or MONTMORANCY'S Hand: Great Spoils, which GALLIA must to Britain yield, From CRESSY's Battel fav'd, to grace RAMILLIA'S Field, XXXIV.

And as fine Art the Spaces may dispose,

The knowing Thought and curious Eye fhall fee
Thy Emblem, Gracious QUEEN, the BRITISH Rose,
Type of fweet Rule, and gentle Majesty:

The NORTHERN Thistle, whom no Hoftile Hand
Unhurt too rudely may provoke, I ween;
HIBERNIA's Harp, Device of Her Command,
And Parent of Her Mirth, fhall there be feen:
Thy vanquish'd Lillies, FRANCE, decay'd and torn,
Shall with diforder'd Pomp the lafting Work adorn.
XXXV,

Beneath, Great QUEEN, oh! very far beneath,
Near to the Ground, and on the humble Bafe,
To fave Her felf from Darkness, and from Death,
That MUSE defires the laft, the lowest Place;
Who tho' unmeet, yet touch'd the trembling String;
For the fair Fame of ANNE and ALBION's Land,
Who durft of War and Martial Fury Sing:
And when Thy Will, and when Thy Subject's Hand
Had quell'd thofe Wars, and bid that Fury ceafe;
Hangs up her grateful Harp to Conqueft, and to Peace.

CAN

CANTATA.

Set by Monfieur GALLIARD.

RECT

BENEATH a verdant Lawrel's ample Shade,

His Lyre to mournful Numbers ftrung,
HORACE, immortal Bard, fupinely laid,
TO VENUS thus addrefs'd the Song:
Ten thousand little LovEs around
Lift'ning, dwelt on ev'ry Sound.
AR I E T

Potent VENUS, bid Thy Son

Sound no more His dire Alarms.
Youth on filent Wings is flown:
Graver Years come rolling on.
Spare my Age, unfit for Arms:
Safe and Humble let Me reft,
From all Am'rous Care releas'd.
Potent VENUS, bid Thy Son

Sound no more His dire Alarms.
RECIT.

Yet, VENUS, why do I each Morn prepare
The fragrant Wreath for CLOE's Hair?
Why, why do I all Day lament and figh,
Unless the beauteous Maid be nigh?

And why all Night purfue Her in my Dreams,
Thro' Flow'ry Meads, and Crystal Streams?

RE CIT

Thus fung the Bard; and thus the Goddess spoke :
Submiffive bow to Love's imperious Voker

Ev'ry State, and ev'ry Age.

Shall own My Rule, and fear. My Rage:
Compell'd by Me Thy Muse shall prove,
That all the World was born to love.
A R IE T.

Bid Thy deftin'd Lyre difcover

Soft Defire, and gentle Pain: Often praife, and always love Her: Thro' her Ear her Heart obtain.

Verfe fhall please, and Sighs fhall move Her: CUPID does with PHOEBUS reign.

Her Right Name.

AS NANCY at Her Toylet fat,

Admiring This, and blaming That ; Tell Me, She faid; but tell Me true; The Nymph who cou'd your Heart fubdue, What Sort of Charms does She possess ? · Abfolve Me Fair One: I'll confefs; With Pleasure I reply'd. Her Hair, In Ringlets rather dark than fair, Does down her Iv'ry Bofom roll, And hiding Half, adorns the Whole. In her high Forehead's fair half-round LOVE fits in open Triumph crown'd: He in the Dimple of her Chin, In private State by Friends is feen. Her Eyes are neither black, nor grey;" Nor fierce, nor feeble is their Ray:

Their dubious Luftre feems to fhow

Something that speaks nor Yes, nor No.

Her Lips no living Bard, I weet,

May fay, how Red, how Round, how Sweet:

Old HOMER only cou'd indite

Their vagrant Grace, and foft Delight:
They ftand Recorded in his Book,
When HELEN fmil'd, and HEBE spoke
The Gipfy turning to her Glafs,
Too plainly show'd, She knew the Face:
And which am I most like, She faid,
Your CLOE, or Your Nut-brown Maid?

Written in an OVID..

VID is the fureft Guide,

You can name, to fhow the Way

To any Woman, Maid, or Bride,

Who refolves to go aftray.

A TRUE

No,

MAID.

O, no; for my Virginity,
When I lofe that, fays Rose, I'll dye:
Behind the Elmes, laft Night, cry'd Dick,
ROSE, were You not extreamly Sick?

TEN

ANOTHER.

EN Months after FLORI MEL happen'd to wed, And was brought in a laudable Manner to Bed; She warbl'd Her Groans with fo charming a Voice, That one half of the Parish was ftun'd with the Noife. But when FLORIMEL deign'd to lie privately in, Ten Months before She and her Spouse were a-kin; She chose with fuch Prudence her Pangs to conceal, That her Nurse, nay her Midwife, fcarce heard her once fqueal.

Learn, Husbands, from hence, for the Peace of your Lives,' That Maids make not half such a Tumult, as Wives.

AREASONABLE AFFLICTION.

ON His Death-Bed

poor

LUBIN lies;

His Spouse is in Despair:

With frequent Sobs, and mutual Cries,
They Both exprefs their Care.

A diff'rent Cause, fays Parfon SLY,
The fame Effect may give:

Poor LUBIN fears, that He fhall Die;

His Wife, that He may Live.

Ano