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APOLOGY TO A LADY,1 Wii O TOLD ME I COULD NOT LOVE HER HEARTILY, BECAUSE I HAD LOVED OTHERS,

IN IMITATION OF Mr. WALLEr.

FAIR Sylvia, cease to blame my youth
For having lov’d before ;

So men, ere they have learnt the truth,
Strange deities adore.

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1. By the manner in which this and the two following little pieces are printed in the Oxford and Cambridge Miscellany Poems, there is little doubt but they are the productions of the excellent poet to whom I have ascribed them.

AGAINST MODESTY IN LOVE.

FoR many unsuccessful years
At Cynthia's feet I lay;

And often bath'd them with my tears,
Despair’d, but durst not pray.

No prostrate wretch, before the shrine Of any saint above,

E’er thought his goddess more divine, Or paid more awful love.

Still the disdainful dame look’d down
With an insulting pride;

Receiv'd my passion with a frown,
Or toss'd her head aside.

When Cupid whisper'd in my ear,
“Use more prevailing charms,

Fond, whining, modest fool, draw near,
And clasp her in your arms.

“With eager kisses tempt the maid,
From Cynthia's feet depart;

The lips he warmly must invade
Who would possess the heart.”

With that I shook off all my fears,
My better fortune tried;

And Cynthia gave what she for years
Had foolishly denied.

ON A YOUNG LAI). Y'S GOING TO TOWN
IN THE SPIRING.

| ONE night unhappy Celadon,
Beneath a friendly myrtle's shade,
With folded arms and eyes cast down
Gently repos'd his love-sick head:
Whilst Thyrsis, sporting on the neighbouring plain,
Thus heard the discontented youth complain:

“Ask not the cause why sickly flowers
Faintly recline their drooping heads;
As fearful of approaching showers,
They strive to hide them in their beds,
Grieving with Celadon they downward grow,
And feel with him a sympathy of woe.

“Chloris will go; the cruel fair,
Regardless of her dying swain,
Leaves him to languish, to despair,
And murmur out in sighs his pain.
The fugitive to fair Augusta flies,
To make new slaves, and gain new victories.”

So restless monarchs, though possess'd
Of all that we call state or power,
Fancy themselves but meanly bless'd,
Vainly ambitious still of more.
Round the wide world impatiently they roam,
Not satisfied with private sway at home.
WOL. II. 20

WHEN THE CAT IS AWAY, THE MICE |MAY PLAY.

A. FABLE,” INSCRIBED TO DR. SWIFT.

In domibus Mures avido dente omnia captant:
In domibus Fures avida mente omnia raptant.

A LADY once (so stories say)
By rats and mice infested,

With gins and traps long sought to slay

The thieves; but still they 'scap'd away,
And daily her molested.

Great havoc 'mongst her cheese, was made,
And much the loss did grieve her:
At length Grimalkin to her aid
She call’d (no more of cats afraid),
And begg'd him to relieve her.

Soon as Grimalkin came in view,
The vermin back retreated;

Grimalkin swift as lightning flew,

Thousands of mice he daily slew,
Thousands of rats defeated.

1 The hints of this and the following fable appear to have originated from the fable of the Old Lady and her Cats, printed in the General PostScript, Nov. 7, 1709. They have been both ascribed to Dr. Swift.—N.

Ne'er cat before such glory won :
All people did adore him :

Grimalkin far all cats outshone,

And in his lady's favour none
Was then preferr'd before him.

Pert Mrs. Abigail alone
Envied Grimalkin's glory;

Her favorite lap-dog now was grown

Neglected; him she did bemoan,
And rav'd like any Tory.

She cannot bear, she swears she won’t,
To see the cat regarded;

But firmly is resolv’d upon't,

And vows, that, whatsoe'er comes on't,
She’ll have the cat discarded.

She begs, she storms, she fawns, she frets, (Her arts are all employ'd)

And tells her lady, in a pet,

Grimalkin cost her more in meat
Then all the rats destroy’d.

At length this spiteful waiting-maid
Produc’d a thing amazing :

The favourite cat's a victim made,

To satisfy this prating jade,
And fairly turn’d a-grazing.

Now lap-dog is again restor'd
Into his lady's favour;

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