And, now, a chilnefs runs through every vein,
Soon as the faw where Cephalus had lain.
'Twas noon, when he again retir'd, to shun
The fcorching ardour of the mid-day fun;
With water first he sprinkled o'er his face,
Which glow'd with heat; then fought his usual place.
Procris, with anxious but with filent care,
View'd him extended, with his bofom bare; And heard him foon th' accuftom'd words repeat, "Come, Zephyr; Aura, come; allay this heat :" Soon as the found her error, from the word, Her colour and her temper were restor❜d. With joy the rofe to clasp him in her arms: But Cephalus the ruftling noise alarms; Some beaft he thinks he in the bushes hears, And ftrait his arrows and his bow prepares. "Hold! hold! anhappy youth!"---I call in vain, With thy own hand thou haft thy Procris flain. "Me, me (fhe cries) thou 'ft wounded with thy dart! "But Cephalus was wont to wound this heart.
"Yet lighter on my afhes earth will lie,
"Since, though untimely, I unrival'd die
"Come, close with thy dear hand my eyes in death, "Jealous of Air, to Air I yield my breath."
Close to his heavy heart her cheek he laid,
And wafh'd, with streaming tears, the wound he made; At length the springs of life their currents leave,
And her laft gafp her husband's lips receive.
Now, to pursue our voyage we provide, Till fafe to port our weary bark we guide.
You may expect, perhaps, I now should teach
What rules to treats and entertainments reach.
Come not the first, invited to a feaft;
Rather come laft, as a more grateful guest.
For that, of which we fear to be depriv'd,
Meets with the fureft welcome when arriv'd.
Befides, complexions of a coarser kind,
From candle-light no small advantage find.
During the time you eat, observe some
grace,
Nor let your unwip'd hands besmear your face;
Nor yet too fqueamishly your meat avoid,
Left we fufpect you were in private cloy'd.
Of all extremes in either kind beware,
And still before your belly's full forbear.
No glutton-nymph, however fair, can wound,
Though more than Helen fhe in charms abound.
I own, I think, of wine the moderate ufe
More fuits the fex, and sooner finds excuse;
It warms the blood, adds luftre to the eyes,
And wine and love have always been allies.
But carefully from all intemperance keep,
Nor drink till you fee double, lifp, or fleep.
For in fuch fleeps brutalities are done,
Which, though you loathe, you have no power to shun.
And now th' inftructed nymph from table led,
Should next be taught how to behave in bed.
But modefty forbids: nor more, my Mufe
With weary wings the labour'd flight pursues ;
Her purple fwans unyok'd the chariot leave,
And needful reft (their journey done) receive,
Thus, with impartial care, my Art I show,
And equal arms on either fex beftow:
While men and maids, who by my rules improve,
Ovid muft own their mafter is in love.
IS ftrange, dear Temple, how it comes to pass,
That no one man is pleas'd with what he has.
So Horace fings---and fure, as ftrange is this:
That no one man 's difpleas'd with what he is.
The foolish, ugly, dull, impertinent,
Are with their perfons and their parts content.
Nor is that all, fo odd a thing is man,
He moft would be what least he should or can.
Hence, homely faces ftill are foremost feen,
And cross-fhap'd fops affect the niceft mien ;
Cowards extol true courage to the skies,
And fools are ftill moft forward to advise;
Th' untrusted wretch to fecrecy pretends,
Whispering his nothing round to all as friends.
Dull rogues affect the politicians part,
And learn to nod, and fmile, and shrug with art;
Who nothing has to lofe, the war bewails;
And he who nothing pays, at taxes rails.
Thus man perverse against plain nature strives,
And to be artfully abfurd contrives.
Plautus will dance, Lufcus at ogling aims,
Old Tritus keeps, and undone Probus games.
Noifome Curculio, whofe envenom'd breath,
Though at a distance utter'd, threatens death,
Full in your teeth his stinking whisper throws;
Vor mends his manners, though you hold your nofc.
Therfites, who feems born to give offence,
From uncouth form, and frontlefs impudence,
Affumes foft airs, and with a flur comes in,
Attempts a smile, and fhocks you with a grin.
Raucus harangues with a diffuafive grace,
And Helluo invites with a forbidding face.
Nature to each allots his proper sphere,
But, that forfaken, we like comets err:
Tofs'd through the void, by some rude shock we 're broke,
And all her boasted fire is loft in fmoke.
Next to obtaining wealth, or power, or cafe,
Men most affect in general to please:
Of this affection vanity's the fource,
And vanity alone obftructs its course;
That telescope of fools, through which they fpy
Merit remote, and think the object nigh..
The glass remov'd, would each himself furvey,
And in just scales his strength and weakness weigh,
Purfue the path for which he was defign'd,
And to his proper force adapt his mind;
Scarce one, but to fome merit might pretend,
Perhaps might please, at least would not offend.
Who would reprove us while he makes us laugh,
Must be no Bavius, but a Bickerstaff.
If Garth, or Blackmore, friendly potions give,
We bid the dying patient drink and live :
When Murus comes, we cry, "Beware the pill;"
And with the tradefman were a tradefman ftill.
If Addison, or Rowe, or Prior write,
We study them with profit and delight :
But when vile Macor and Mundungus rhyme,
We grieve we 've learnt to read, ay, curfe the time.
All rules of pleasing in this one unite,
"Affect not any thing in Nature's spite."
Baboons and apes ridiculous we find ;
For what? For ill-refembling human-kind,
"None are,
for being what they are, in fault,
"But for not being what they would be thought."
Thus I, dear friend, to you my thoughts impart,
As to one perfect in the pleasing art;
If art it may be call'd in you, who seem,
By Nature form'd for Love, and for Efteem.
Affecting none, all virtues you poffefs,
And really are what others but profefs.
I'll not offend you, while myself I please;
I loathe to flatter, though I love to praise.
But when fuch early worth fo bright appears,
And antedates the fame which waits on years;
I can't fo ftupidly affected prove,
Not to confefs it in the man I love.
Though now I aim not at that known applaufe
You've won in arms, and in your country's cause;
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