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And thou, unhappy child, she said 55
(Her anger by her grief allayed),
Unhappy child, who thus hast lost
All the estate we e'er could boast;
Whither, O whither wilt thou run,
Thy name despised, thy weakness known? 60
Nor shall thy shrine on earth be crowned;
Nor shall thy power in Heaven be owned;
When thou, nor man, nor god canst wound.

Obedient Cupid kneeling cried,
Cease, dearest mother, cease to chide:
Gany's a cheat, and I’m a bubble:
Yet why this great excess of trouble?
The dice were false: the darts are gone:
Yet how are you or I undone :

The loss of these I can supply 70
With keener shafts from Cloe's eye:
Fear not we e'er can be disgraced,
While that bright magazine shall last.
Your crowded altars still shall smoke;
And man your friendly aid invoke:
Jove shall again revere your power,
And rise a swan, or fall a shower.

CUPIL) MISTAKEN.

As after noon, one summer's day,
Venus stood bathing in a river,

Cupid a-shooting went that way,
New strung his bow, new filled his quiver.

2. With skill he chose his sharpest dart,

With all his might his bow he drew;

Swift to his beauteous parent's heart
The too well-guided arrow flew.

3 I faint! I die! the goddess cried;
O cruel, couldst thou find none other,
To wreck thy spleen on 4 Parricide!
Like Nero, thou hast slain thy mother.

4 Poor Cupid sobbing scarce could speak;
Indeed, mamma, I did not know ye:
Alas! how easy my mistake;
I took you for your likeness Cloe.

VENUS MISTAKEN.

1 WHEN Cloe's picture was to Venus shown,
Surprised, the goddess took it for her own.
And what, said she, does this bold painter mean,
When was I bathing thus, and naked seen!

2 Pleased Cupid heard, and checked his mother's pride: And who's blind now, mamma! the urchin cried. "Tis Cloe's eye, and cheek, and lip, and breast: Friend Howard's genius fancied all the rest.

A SONG.

IF wine and music have the power
To ease the sickness of the soul;

Let Phoebus every string explore,
And Bacchus fill the sprightly bowl.

Let them their friendly aid employ,
To make my Cloe's absence light;

And seek for pleasure, to destroy
The sorrows of this live-long night.

E

But she to-morrow will return;
Venus, be thou to-morrow great;
Thy myrtles strow, thy odours burn;
And meet thy favourite nymph in state.
I(ind goddess, to no other powers
Let us to-morrow's blessings own:
Thy darling loves shall guide the hours,
And all the day be thine alone.

THE DOVE.

—Tantaene animis coelestibus irae?—WIRG.

1 IN Virgil's sacred verse we find,
That passion can depress or raise
The heavenly, as the human mind;
Who dare deny what Virgil says!

2. But if they should, what our great master
Has thus laid down, my tale shall prove;
Fair Venus wept the sad disaster
Of having lost her favourite Dove.

3 In complaisance poor Cupid mourned;
His grief relieved his mother's pain;
He vowed he'd leave no stone unturned,
But she should have her Dove again.

4 Though none, said he, shall yet be named,
I know the felon well enough;
But be she not, mamma, condemned
Without a fair and legal proof.

5 With that, his longest dart he took, As constable would take his staff;

That gods desire like men to look,
Would make e'en Heraclitus laugh.

6 Love's subalterns, a duteous band,
Like watchmen round their chief appear:

Each had his lantern in his hand:
And Venus masked brought up the rear.

7 Accoutred thus, their eager step
To Cloe's lodging they directed:
(At once I write, alas! and weep,
That Cloe is of theft suspected.)

8 Late they set out, had far to go:
St Dunstan's, as they passed, struck one.
Clöe, for reasons good, you know,
Lives at the sober end of the town.

9 With one great peal they rap the door,
Like footmen on a visiting day.
Folks at her house at such an hour!
Lord! what will all the neighbours say?

10 The door is open: up they run:
Nor prayers, nor threats divert their speed:
Thieves! thieves! cries Susan; we’re undone;
They'll kill my mistress in her bed.

11 In bed indeed the nymph had been
Three hours; for all historians say,
She commonly went up at ten,
Unless piquet was in the way.

12 She waked, be sure, with strange surprise, O Cupid, is this right or law,

Thus to disturb the brightest eyes,
That ever slept, or ever saw?

13 Have you observed a sitting hare,
Listening, and fearful of the storm
Of horns and hounds, clap back her ear,
Afraid to keep, or leave her form :

14 Or have you marked a partridge quake,
Viewing the towering falcon nigh!
She cuddles low behind the brake:
Nor would she stay; nor dares she fly.

15 Then have you seen the beauteous maid;
When gazing on her midnight foes,
She turned each way her frighted head,
Then sunk it deep beneath the clothes.

16 Venus this while was in the chamber
Incognito; for Susan said,
It smelt so strong of myrrh and amber—
And Susan is no lying maid.

17 But since we have no present need
Of Venus for an episode,
With Cupid let us e'en proceed;
And thus to Cloe spoke the god:

18 Hold up your head: hold up your hand: Would it were not my lot to show ye This cruel writ, wherein you stand Indicted by the name of Cloe:

19 For that by secret malice stirred, Or by an emulous pride invited,

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