Retire with Me to yonder Bower;
And rest your self for half an Hour:
'Tis far indeed from hence to Heav'n:
And You fly faft: and 'tis but Seven.
We'll take one cooling Cup of Nectar;
And drink to this Celectial Hector
He break my Darts, or hurt my Pow'r!
He, LEDA's Swan, and D AN A E's Show'r!
Go, bid him his Wife's Tongue reftrain;
And mind his Thunder, and his Rain.
My Darts? O certainly I'll give 'em:
From CLOE's Eyes He fhall receive 'em.
There's One, the Best in all my Quiver,
Twang! thro' his very Heart and Liver.
He then shall Pine, and Sigh, and Rave:
Good Lord! what Buftle fhall We have!
NEPTUNE muft straight be sent to Sea;
And FLORA fummon'd twice a-day:
One must find Shells, and t'other Flow'rs,
For cooling Grotts, and fragrant Bow'rs,
That CLOE may be ferv'd in State:
The HOURS muft at Her Toilet wait:
Whilft all the reasoning Fools below,
Wonder their Watches go too flow.
LYBS muft fly South, and EURUS East,
For Jewels for Her Hair and Breaft:
No Matter tho' their cruel Hafte
Sink Cities, and lay Forrests waste.
No Matter tho' This Fleet be loft;
Or that lie wind-bound on the Coast.
What whis'pring in my Mother's Ear!
What Care, that JUNO fhou'd not hear!
What Work among You Scholar Gods!
PHOEBUS muft write Him am'rous Odes:
And Thou, poor Coufin, muft compofe
His Letters in fubmiffive Profe:
Whilft haughty CLOE, to fuftain
The Honour of My myftick Reign,
Shall all his Gifts and Vows difdain;
And laugh at your Old Bully's Pain.
Dear Couz, faid HERMES in a Fright,
For Heav'n fake keep your Darts: Good Night.
RIDDLE,
RESOLVE Me, CLOE, what is THIS:
Or forfeit me One precious Kiss..
'Tis the firft Off-fpring of the Graces;
Bears diff'rent Forms in diff'rent Places;
Acknowledg'd fine, where-e'er beheld;
Yet fancy'd finer, when conceal'd.
'Twas FLORA's Wealth, and CIRCE's Charm,
PANDORA'S Box of Good and Harm:
'Twas MARS's Wish, ENDYMION's Dream;
APELLES' Draught, and Ovid's Theme.
THIS guided THES EUS thro' the Maze;
And fent Him home with Life and Praife.
But THIS undid the PHRYGIAN Boy;
And blew the Flames that ruin'd TROY.
THIS fhew'd great Kindness to old GREECE,
And help'd rich JASON to the Fleece,
THIS thro' the Eaft juft Vengeance hurl'd,
poor ANTHONY the World.
Injur'd, tho' LUCRECE found her Doom;
THIS banish'd Tyranny from ROME.
Appeas'd, tho' LAIS gain'd her Hires
THIS fet PERSEPOLIS on Fire.
For THIS ALCIDES learn'd to Spin;
His Club laid down, and Lion's Skin.
For THIS APOLLO deign'd to keep,
With fervile 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.
For THIS He reaffumes the Ned;
(While SEMELE commands the God)
Launces the Bolt, and shakes the Poles;
Tho' MOMUS laughs, and JUNO fcolds.
Here lift'ning CLOE fmil'd, and faid;
Your Riddle is not hard to read:
Fair one, if You do;
Need I, alas! the Theme purfue?
For THIS Thou feeft, for THIS I leave,
.Whate'er the World thinks Wife or Grave,
Ambition, Bufinefs, Friendship, News,
My useful Books, and ferious Mufe.
For THIS I willingly decline
The Mirth of Feafts, and Joys of Wine;
-And chufe to fit and talk with Thee,
(As Thy great Orders may decree)
Of Cocks and Bulls, of Flutes and Fiddles,
Of Idle Tales, and foolish Riddles.
WHAT Nymph fhou'd I admire, or truft,
But CLOE Beauteous, CLOE Juft?
What Nymph fhou'd I defire to fee,
But Her who leaves the Plain for Me?
To Whom fhou'd I compose the Lay,
But Her who liftens when I play?
To Whom in Song repeat my Cares,
But Her who in my Sorrow fhares?
For Whom fhou'd I the Garland make,
But Her who joys the Gift to take,
And boasts She wears it for My Sake?
In Love am I not fully blett?
LISETTA, pr'ythee tell the reft.
URE CLOE Juft, and CLOE Fair
Deferves to be Your only Care:
But when You and She to Day
Far into the Wood did stray,
And I happen'd to pass by;
Which way did You caft your Eye?
But when your Cares to Her You fing,
Yet dare not tell Her whence they fpring;
Does it not more afflict your Heart,
That in those Cares She bears a Part?
When You the Flow'rs for CLOE twine,
Why do you to Her Garland join
The meanest Bud that falls from Mine?
Simpleft of Swains! the World may fee,
Whom CLOE loves, and Who loves Me.
THE Pride of ev'ry Grove I chose,
The Violet sweet, and Lilly fair,
The dappl'd Pink, and blufhing Rose,
To deck my charming CLOE's Hair.
At Morn the Nymph vouchsaft to place
Upon her Brow the various Wreath;
The Flow'rs lefs blooming than Her Face,
The Scent less fragrant than Her Breath.
III.
The Flow'rs She wore along the Day:
And ev'ry Nymph and Shepherd faid,
That in her Hair they lookt more gay,
Than glowing in their Native Bed.
Undreft at Evening, when She found
Their Odours loft, their Colours paft;
She chang'd her Look, and on the Ground
Her Garland and her Eye She cast.
That Eye dropt Sense distinct and clear,
As any Muse's Tongue cou'd speak;
|