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ON BEAUTY.. THE QUESTION:. LISETTA'S REPLY. There's one, the best in all my quiver,
Here listening Cloe smild, and said: Tvang! through his very heart and liver;
" Your riddle is not hard to read : He then shall pine, and sigh, and rave:
I guess it."--" Fair one, if you do, Good Lord! what bustle shall we have!
Need 1, alas! the theme pursue? Neptune must straight be sent to sea,
For this, thou secst, for this I leave And Flora summon'd twice a day:
Whate'er the world thinks wise or grave, One must tind shells, and t' other flowers,
Ambition, business, friendship, neus, For cooling grots, and fragrant bowers,
My liseful bouks, and serious Muse. That Cloe may be serv'd in state,
For this, I willingly decline The Hours inust at her toilet wait:
The inirth of feasts, and joys of wine; Whilst all the reasoning fools below
And choose to sit and talk with thee Wonder their watches go too slow.
(As thy great orders may decree) Lyls must fly south, and Eurus cast,
Of cocks and bulls, and flutes and fiddies,
Of idle tales and foolish riddles.”
Waar nymph should I admire or trust,
But Cloe beauteous, Cloe just? And thou, poor cousin, must compose
What nymph should I desire to see, His letters in submissive prose;
But ber who leares the plain for me? Whilst haughty Cloe, to sustain
To whom shonld I compose the lay, The honour of my mystic reign,
But her who listens when I play? Shall all his gifts and vows dis lain,
To whom in song repent my cares, And laugh at your old bully's pain."
But her who in iny sorrow shares ? “ Dear couz," said Hermes, in a fright,
For whom shoulil I the garland make : * For Heaven's sake! keep your darts! good night.” But her who joys the gift to take,
And boa-ts she wears it for my sake.
Lisetta, priythee tell the rest.
The violet sweet and lily fair,
To deck my charining Cloe's hair.
Upon her brow the various wreath;
The scent less fragrant than her breath.
And every nymph and shepherd said,
Than glowing in their native bed.
Undrest at evening, when she found
When in my glass I chanc'd to look ; Their odours lost, their colours past;
Of Venus what did I implore? She chang'd her look, and on the ground
That every grace, which thence I took, Her garland and her eye she cast.
Should know to charm my Damon more. That eye dropt sense distinct and clear,
Reading thy verse; “ Who heeds," said I, As any Muse's tongue could speak,
“ If here or there his glances flew ? When from its lid a pearly tcar
0, free for ever be his eye, Ran trickling down her beauteous cheek.
Whose beart to me is always true !"
My bloom indeed, my little flower Dissembling what I knew too well,
Of Beauty quickly lost its pride : “ My love, my life,” said I, “explain
For, sever'd from its native bower, This change of humour: pr’ythee tell:
It on thy glowing bosom dy'd. That falling tear—what does it mean?"
Yet card I not what might presage She sighd; she smil'd: and, to the flowers
Or withering wreath, or fleeting youth; Pointing, the lovely moralist said :
Love I esteem'd more strong than Age, “ See, friend, in some few fleeting hours,
And Time less permanent than 'Truthe See yonder, what a change is made !
Why then I weep, forbear to know : “ Ah, me! the blooming pride of May,
Fall uncontrollid, my tears, and free ; And that of Beauty, are but one:
O Damon! tis the only woe, At mom both flourish bright and gay ;
I ever yet conceal'd from thee. Both fade at evening, pale, and gone.
The secret wound with which I bleed At dawn poor Stella danc'd and sung ;
Shall lie wrapt up, ev'n in my hearse; The amorous youth around her bow'd :
But on my tonb-stone thou shalt read At night her fatal knell was rung;
My answer to thy dubious verse. I saw, and kiss'd her in her shroud. “ Such as she is, who died today;
Such I, alas! may be tomorrow : Go, Damon, bid thy Muse display
ANSWER TO CHLOE JEALOUS, The justice of thy Cloe's sorrow.'
IN THE SAME STYLE; THE AUTHOR SICK. Yes, fairest proof of Beauty's power,
Dear idol of my panting heart,
Nature points this my fatal hour:
While now I take my last adieu,
Heave thou no sigh, nor shed a tear ;
Lest yet my half-clos'd eye may view
On earth an object worth its care, Since I am not what I was,
From Jealousy's tormenting strife What from this day I shall be,
For ever be thy bosom freed : Venus, let me never see.
That nothing may disturb thy life,
Content I hasten to the dead.
Shall with his amorous parley move thee;
Ret ect one moment on his truth
Who, dying thus, persists to love thee.
A BETTER ANSWER.
Dear Cloe, how blubber'd is that pretty face! Embleins, to teach a female wit
Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hair all uncurld: The ways, where changing Capid Aies?
Pr’ythee quit this caprice; and (as old Falstaffsays) Your riddle purpos’d to rehearse
Let us ev'n talk a little like folks of this world. The general power that beauty bas:
How canst thou presume, thou hast leave to destroy But why did not peculiar verse
The beauties, which Venus but lent to thy keepDescribe one charm of Cloe's face?
ing? The glass, which was at Venus' shrine,
Those looks were design'd to inspire love and jog : With such niysterious sorrow laid :
More ordinary eyes may serve people for weepThe garland (and you call it mie)
ing. Which show'd how youth and beauty fade : To be vext at a trife or two that I writ, Ten thousand trifes light as these
Your judgment at once, and my passion, you Nor can my raze, nor anger, inove :
wrong: She should be humble, who would please ;
You take that for fact, which will scarce be found wit: And she must sufler, who can love,
Od's-life! must one swear to the truth of a song!
PALLAS AND VENUS.. A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN LOVE. 138 What I speak, my fair Cloe, and what I write, To sum up all the rage of fate shous
In the two things I dread and hate,
While with delight the lovely maid
Receiv'd the vows she thus repaid : The god of us verse-men, (you know, child) the Sun,
“ Hope of my age, joy of my youth, How after his journeys he sets up his rest :
Blest miracle of love and truth; If at morning o'er earth 'tis his fancy to run;
All that could e'er be counted mine, At night he declines on his Thetis's brcast.
My love and life, long since are thinė; So when I am weary'd with wandering all day, A real joy I never knew,
To thee my delight in the evening I come : Till I believ'd thy passion true :
A real grief I ne'er can find,
Contempt, and poverty, and care,
All we abhor, and all we fear, And let us like Horace and Lydia agree :
Blest with thy presence, I can bear. For thou art a girl as much brighter than her,
Through waters and through flames I'll 50,
Suflerer and solace of thy woe :
And make my constant passion known
By more than woman yet has done.
“ Had I a wish that did not bear
The stamp and image of my dear,
(If Venus ever lov'd like me),
To be the Persian monarch's bride, I vanquish : guess how potent I should be, Partner of all his power and pride; If to the field I came in armour drest;
Or rule in regal state above, Dreadful, like tbine, my shield, and terrible my Mother of gods, and wife of Jove." crest!”
O happy these of human race! The warrior goddess, with disdain, reply'd : But soon, alas! our pleasures pass. “ Thy folly, child, is equal to thy gods :
He thank'd her on his bended knee; Let a brave enemy for once advise,
Then drank a quart of milk and tea; And Venus (if 'tis possible) be wise.
And leaving her ador'd embrace,
While she, his absence to bemoan,
Where all this time he had been hid.
TO A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN LOVE.
WHve men have these ambitious fancies;
“ From public noise and factious strife,
“ 'To painted roof and shining spires
AN ENGLISH PADLOCK.
Tor, give that whipster but his errand,
Be to her virtues very kind; He takes my lori chief justice' warrant:
Be to her faults a little blind; Dauntless as Death, away he walks;
Let all her ways be unconfin'd;
And clap your padlock-on hér mind."
" Since this has been autheptic truth,
Hans Carver., impotent and old,
Married a lass of London mold: The spy, which does this treasure keep,
Handsomne? enough ; extremely gay: Does she ne'er say her prayers, nor sleep
Lov'd music, company, and play: Does she to no excess incline?
High flights she had, and it at will; Does she dy music, mirth, and wine?
And so her tongue lay seldom still : Or bave not gold and flattery power
For, in all visits, who but she, To purchase onc unguarded hour ?”
To argue, or to repartée? " Your care does further yet extend:
She made it plain, that buman passion That spy is guarded by your friend."
Was order'd by predestination; “ But has this friend nor eye nor heart?
That, if weak women went astray, May he not feel the cruel dart,
Their stars were more in fault than they: Which, soon or late, all mortals feel?
Whole tragedies she had by heart; May he not, with too tender zeal,
Enter'd into Roxana's part: Give the fair prisoner cause to see,
To triumph in her rival's blood, How much he wishes she were free?
The action certainly was good. May he not craftily infer
“How like a vine young Ammon curld! The rules of friendship too severe,
On that dear congueror of the worid !" Which chain him to a hated trust;
She pitied Betterton in age, Which make him wretched, to be just ?
That ridicul'd the god-like rage. And may not she, this darling she,
She, first of all the town, was told, Youthful and healthy, Acsh and blood,
Where newest India things were sold: Easy with him, ill us'd by thee,
So in a morning, without bodice, Allow this logic to be good ?”
Slipt sometimes out to Mrs. Thody's; “Sir, will your questions never end?
To cheapen tea, to buy a screen: I trust to neither spy nor friend.
What else could so much virtue mean? In short, I keep her from the sight
Por, to prevent the least reproach, Of every human face.”—“She'll write."
Betty went with her in thc coach. “ From pen and paper she's debarr'd.”
But, when no very great affair “ Has she a bodkin and a card ?
Excited her peculiar care,
Drank chocolate, then slept again :
At twelve she rose; with much ado The key (look here) is in this pocket."
Her clothes were huddled on by two; “ The key - hole, is that left?” --" Most cer Then, “ Does my lady dine at home?” tain."
“Yes, sure !"-". But is the colonel come !! " She'll thrust her letter through, sir Martin." Next, how to spend the afternoon,
“ Dear, angry friend, what imust be done? And not come home again too soon; Is there no way?"-" There is but one.
The change, the city, or the play, Send her abroad : and let her see,
As each was proper for the day: That all this mingled mass, which she,
A turn, in summer, to Hyde-park, Being forbidden, longs to know,
When it grew tolerably dark. Is a dull farce, an empty show,
Wife's pleasure causes husband's pain: Powder, and pocket-glass, and beau ;
Strange fancies come in Hans's brain: A staple of romance and lies,
He thought of what he did not name; False tears and real perjuries :
And would reform, but durst not blame. Where sighs and looks are bought and sold,
At first he therefore preach'd his wife And love is made but to be told:
The comforts of a pious life : Where the fat bawd and lavish heir
Told her, how transient beauty was; The spoils of ruin'd beauty share;
That all must die, and flesh was grass : And youth, seduc'd from friends and fame,
He bought her sermons, psalms and graces, Must give up age to want and shame.
And doubled down the useful places. Let her behold the frantic scene,
But still the weight of worldly care The women wretched, false the men:
Allow'd her little time for prayer: And when, these certain ills to shun,
And Cleopatra was read o'er; She would to thy embraces run;
While Scot, and Wake, and twenty more, Receive her with extended arms,
That teach one to deny one's-self, Seem more delighted with her charms;
Stood unmolested on the shelf. Wait on her to the Park and play;
An untouch'd Bible grac'd her toilet: Put on good-humour; make her gay;
No fear that thumb of hers should spoil it
DUTCH PROVERB...PAULO PURGANTI AND HIS WIFE. 155 In short, the trade was still the same:
Appear'd to honest Hans again; The dame went out: the colonel caine.
But not at all by madam seen: “ What's to be done?” poor Carvel cry'd : And, giving him a magic ring, " Another battery must be try'd :
Fit for the finger of a king; What if to spells I had recourse?
“ Dear Hans," said he, “this jewel take, 'Tis but to hinder something worse.
And wear it long for Satan's sake: The end must justify the means;
"Twill do your business to a bair: He only sins who ill intends :
For, long as you this ring shall wear, Since, therefore, 'tis to combat evil,
As sufe as I look over Lincoln, "Tis lawful to employ the Devil.”
That ne'er shall happen, which you think on." Forthwith the Devil did appear,
Hans took the ring, with joy extreme, (For naine hiin, and he's always near)
(All this was only in a dream) Not in the shape in which he plies
Anil, thrusting it beyond his joint, At miss's elbow when she lies,
"l'is done,” he cry'd: “I've gain'd my point."Or stands before the nursery doors,
What point,” said she, “
you ugly beast? To take the naughty boy that roars:
You neither give me joy nor rest."But, without sawcer eye or claw,
"Tis donc,"-"What's done, you drunken bear? Like a grare barrister at law.
You've thrust your finger God knows where!" “ Hans Carvel, lay aside your grief,” The Devil says; “ I bring relief." “ Relief !” says Hans : " pray, let me crave Your name, şir?"-". Satan,"
A DUTCH PROV'ERB.
“Fire, water, woman, are man's ruin," And pray, sir, when came you from Hell?
Cays wise professor Vander Brüin. Our friends there, did you leave them well?"-
By flames a house I hir'd was lost “ All rell; but pr’ythee, honest Hans,"
I ast year: and I must pay the cost. Says Satan, " leave your complaisance:
This spring the rains o'erflow'd my ground : The truth is this : I cannot stay
And my best Flanders mare was drown'd. Fiaring in sun shine all the day :
A sleve I am to Clara's eyes: For, entre nous, we hellish sprites
The gipsy kuowo her power, and fies. Love more the fresco of the nights;
Fire, watır, woman, are my ruin:
And great thy wisdoin, Vander Brüin.
PAULO,PURGANTİ AND HIS WIFE;
AN HONEST, BUT A SIMPLE PAIR. Tonight I'll bring it, by my faith!
Est enim quiddam, idque intelligitur in omni vir. Believe for once what Satan saith."
tute, quod deccat: quod cogitatione magis a Away went Hans: Glad? Not a little;
virtute potest quàm re separari. Obey'd the Devil to a tittle;
Cic. de OL. 1. Invited friends some halt a dozen,
BEYOND the fix'd and settled rules
Of vicc and virtue in the schools,
Peyond the letter of the law,
Which keeps our men and maids in awe,
The better sort should sit before 'em
A grace, a manner, a decorun;
Something, that gives their acts a light;
Makes them not only just, but bright;
And sets them in that open fame,
Which witty Valice cannot blame. He noderd in his elbow-chais;
For 'tis in life, as 'tis in painting: From thence was carried off to bed:
Much may be right, yet much be wanting; John held his heels, and Nan his head.
From lines drawn true, our eve may trace My lad, was disturb'd: new sorrow!
A foot, a knee, a hand, a face ; Which Hans must answer for to-morrow,
May justly own the picture wrought In bed then view this happy pair;
Exact to rule, exempt from fault: And think how Hymen triumph'd there.
Yet, if the colouring be not there,
The Titian stroke, the Guido air;
To nicest judginent show the piece,
At best, 'twill only not displease:
It would not gain on Jersey's eye;
Bradford would frown, and set it by. 'Twas Acme's and Septimius' life:
Thus, in the picture of our mind, The lady sighd: the lover snor'd :
The action may be well design'd;
Guided by law, and bound by duty ; The punctual Devil kept his word:
Yet want this je ne sçai quoi of beaụty: