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Emblems to teach a female wit
The ways where changing Cupid flies?
III.

Your riddle purpos'd to rehearse
The gen'ral pow'r that beauty has,
But why did no peculiar verfe
Defcribe one charm of Cloe's face?

IV.
The glafs which was at Venus' fhrine
With fuch myfterious forrow laid,
The garland (and you call it mine)
Which fhow'd how youth and beauty fade.
V.

Ten thoufand trifles light as these
Nor can my rage nor anger move;
She fhould be humble who would please
And the muft fuffer who can love.

VI.

When in my glafs I chanc'd to look,
Of Venus what did I implore?

That ev'ry grace which thence I took
Should know to charm my Damon more.

VII.

Reading thy verfe, Who heeds, faid I,
If here or there his glances flew ?
O, free for ever be his eye
Whofe heart to me is always true.
VIII.

My bloom, indeed, my little flow'r
Of beauty, quickly loft its pride;
For, fever'd from its native bow'r
It on thy glowing bofom dy'd.

IX.

Yet car'd I not what might prefage
Or withering wreath or fleeting youth;
Love I efteem'd more strong than age,
And time lefs permanent than truth.
VOL II.

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X.

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Why then I weep forbear to know
Fall uncontroll'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 e'en in my hearfe,
But on my tombstone thou shalt read

My answer to thy dubious verfe.

ANSWER TO CLOE JEALOUS.

IN THE SAME STYLE.

The Author sick,

YES, fate of my panting heart,

"ES, faireft proof of beauty's pow'r,

Nature points this my fatal hour,
And I have liv'd, and we must part.

II.

While now I take my last 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 Jealoufy's tormenting ftrife
For ever be thy bofom 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 parley move thee,
Reflect one moment on his truth
Who dying thus perfifts to love thee.

DE

A BETTER ANSWER.

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

II.

How canft thou prefume thou haft leave to destroy The beauties which Venus but lent to thy keeping? Thofe looks were defign'd to infpire love and joy; More ord❜nary eyes may ferve people for weeping.

III.

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To be vex'd at a trifle or two that I writ,
Your judgment at once and my paffion you wrong;
You take that for fact which can fcarce be found wit:
Odd's life! muft cne fwear to the truth of a fong? 12
IV.

What I fpeak, my fair Cloe, and what I write, fhews
The diff'rence 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 heart.

V.

The god of us verfemen (you know child) the Sun,
How after his journey he fet 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 ev'ning come;
No matter what beauties I law in my way,
They were but my vifits, but thou art my home.

VII.

Then finifh, dear Cloe, this paftoral war,
And let us like Horace and Lydia agree;
For thou art a girl as uch brighter than her,
As he was a poet fublimer than me.

VENUS MISTAKEN.

WHEN Cloe's picture was to Venus fhown,

Surpris'd, the goddefs took it for her own; And what, faid the, does this bold painter mean? When was I bathing thus, and naked seen!

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Pleas'd Cupid heard, and check'd his mother's pride; And who's blind now, Mamma? the urchin cry'd.

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"Tis Cloe's eye, and cheek, and lip, and breast: Friend Howard's genius fancy'd all the rest.

VENUS ADVICE TO THE MUSES.

ΤΗ

HUS to the Muses spoke the Cyprian Dame,
Adorn my altars, and revere my name.
My fon fhall elfe affume his potent darts;
Twang goes the bow; my girls have at your hearts.
The Mules answer'd Venus, We deride
The Vagrant's malice and his mother's pride:
Send him to nymphs who fleep on Ida's fhade,
To the loofe dance and wanton masquerade :
Our thoughts are fettled, and intent our look
On the inftructive verfe and moral book.
On female idleness his pow'r relies,
But when he finds us studying hard he flies.

THE JUDGMENT OF VENUS.
HEN Kneller's works, of various grace,

W were to fair Venus fhown,

The goddess fpy'd in ev'ry face

Some features of her own.

II.

Juft fo, (and pointing with her hand)
So fhone, fays fhe, my eyes,

When from two goddeffes I gain'd
An apple for a prize.

III.

When in the glafs and river too
My face I lately view'd,

Such was I, if the glafs be true,

If true the cryftal flood.

IV.

In colours of this glorious kind

Apelles painted me;

My hair, thus flowing with the wind
Sprung from my native fea.

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How old may Phillis be, you ask,

Whofe beauty thus all hearts engages?

To answer is no easy task,

For fhe has really two ages.

Stiff in brocade, and pinch'd in ftays,
Her patches, paint, and jewels on,
All day let Envy view her face,
And Phillis is but twenty-one.

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