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 Pastoral War;
And let us like HORACE and LYDIA agree: For Thou art a Girl as much brighter than Her, As He was a Poet fublimer than Me.
PALLAS and VENUS.
An E PIGRAM.
THE TROJAN Swain had judg'd the great Difpute;
And Beauty's Pow'r obtain'd the Golden Fruit;
When VENUS, logfe in all Her naked Charms,
Met Jove's great Daughter clad in fhining Arms.
The wanton Goddefs view'd the Warlike Maid
From Head to Foot, and Tauntingly She faid:
Yield, Sifter; Rival, yield: Naked, You fee,
I vanquish: Guefs how Potent I fhould be;
If to the Field I came in Armour dreft;
Dreadful, like Thine, my Shield, and terrible my Creft.
The Warrior Goddess with Difdain 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 ftrong muft 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..
FROM publick Noife and factious Strife,
From all the bufie Ills of Life,
Take me, My CELIA, to thy Breast;
And lull my wearied Soul to Reft:
For ever, in this humble Cell,
Let Thee and I, my Fair One, dwell;
and He
None enter elfe, but LovE-
Shall bar the Door, and keep the Key.
To painted Roofs, and fhining Spires
(Uneafy Seats of high Defires)
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 CELI A, when Thy Swain
Defires to fee a Court again;
May Heav'n around This deftin'd Head
The choiceft of it's Curfes fhed:
To fum up all the Rage of Fate,
In the Two Things I dread and hate;
May'ft Thou be False, and I be Great.
Thus, on his CELIA'S panting Breast,
Fond CELADON his Soul expreft;
While with Delight the lovely Maid
Receiv'd the Vows, She 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 Thine:
A real Joy I never knew;
'Till I believ'd Thy Paffion true:
A real Grief I ne'er can find;
'Till Thou prov't 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 Solace of Thy Woe:
Trace Me fome yet unheard-of Way,
That I Thy Ardour may repay; .
And make My conftant Paffion known,
By more than Woman yet has done,
Had I a Wish that did not bear
The Stamp and Image of my 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 Shepherd's Arms, and this Retreat,
To be the PERSIAN Monarch's Bride,
Part'ner of all his Pow'r and Pride;
Or 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 She, his Abfence to bemoan,'
The very Moment He was gone,
Call'd THYR SIS from beneath the Bed;
Where all this time he had been hid.
HILE Men have these ambitious Fancies;
And wanton Wenches read Romances ;
Our Sex will- What? Out with it. Lye;
And Their's in equal Strains reply.
The Moral of the Tale I fing
(A Pofy for a Wedding Ring)
In this fhort Verfe will be confin'd:
Love is a Jeft, and Vows are Wind.
ISS DANA E, when Fair and Young
(As HORACE has divinely fung)
Cou'd not be kept from Jove's Embrace
By Doors of Steel, and Walls of Brafs.
The Reason of the Thing is clear;
Would JOVE the naked Truth ayer:
CUPID was with Him of the Party;
And fhew'd himself fincere and hearty:
For, give That Whipfter but his Errand;
He takes my Lord Chief Justice' Warrant
Dauntless as Death away He walks;
Breaks the Doors open; fnaps the Locks;
Searches the Parlour, Chamber, Study;
Nor ftops, 'till He has CULPRIT's Body.
Since This has been Authentick Truth,
By Age deliver'd down to Youth;
Tell us, mistaken Husband, tell us,
Why fo Mysterious, why fo Jealous?.
Does the Restraint, the Bolt, the Bar
Make Us lefs Curious, Her lefs Fair?
- The Spy, which does this Treasure keep,
Doe She ne'er fay her Pray'rs, nor fleep? -Does She to no Excefs incline?
Does She fly Musick, Mirth, and Wine?
Or have not Gold and Flatt'ry Pow'r,
To purchase One unguarded Hour?
Your Care does further yet extend:
That Spy is guarded by your Friend.
But has This Friend nor Eye, nor Heart?
May He not feel the cruel Dart,
Which, foon or late, all Mortals feel?
May He not, with too tender Zeal,
Give the fair Pris'ner Caufe to fee,
How much He wishes, She were free?
May He not craftily infer
The Rules of Friendship too fevere,
Which chain Him to a hated Truft;
Which make Him Wretched, to be Juft?
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