UPON QUITTING HIS MISTRESS.
I KNOW, Celinda, I have borne too long,
And, by forgiving, have increas'd my wrong:
Yet if there be a power in verfe to flack
Thy courfe in vice, or bring fled virtue back,
I'll undertake the task, howe'er fo hard;
A generous action is its own reward.
Oh! were thy virtues equal to thy charms,
I'd fly from crowns to live within those arms:
But who, oh who, can e'er believe thee juft,
When fuch known falsehoods have destroy'd all trust?
Farewel, false fair! nor fhall I longer stay.
Since we must part, why should we thus delay
Your love alone was what my foul could prize,
And miffing that, can all the reft despise;
Yet fhould I not repent my follies.paft,
Could you take up and grow referv'd at laft,
'Twould please me, parted from your fatal charms,
To fee you happy in another's arms.
Whatever threatnings fury might extort,
Oh fear not I should ever do you hurt:
For though my former paffion is remov'd,
I would not injure one I once had lov'd.
Adieu! While thus I wafte my time in vain,
Sure there are maids I might entirely gain:
I'll fearch for fuch, and to the firft that 's true, Refign the heart fo hardly freed from you.
ES, all the world must sure agree,
He who's fecur'd of having thee,
Will be entirely bleft;
But 'twere in me too great a wrong,
To make one who has been fo long
My queen, my flave at last.
Nor ought those things to be confin'd,
That were for public good defign'd;
Could we in foolish pride,
Make the fun always with us ftay,
'Twould burn our corn and grass away,
To ftarve the world befide.
Let not the thoughts of parting fright
Two fouls, which paffion does unite;
For while our love does last,
Neither will ftrive to go away;
And why the devil should we stay,
When once that love is past?
HLOE new-marry'd looks on men no more;
Why then 'tis plain for what she look'd before.
ORNUS proclaims aloud his wife's a whore ; Alas, good Cornus, what can we do more? Wert thou no cuckold, we might make thee one; But being one, we cannot make thee none.
HRASO picks quarrels when he's drunk at night;
When fober in the morning dares not fight.
Thrafo, to fhun thofe ills that may enfue,
Drink not at night, or drink at morning too.
ICH Gripe does all his thoughts and cunning bend,
T' increase that wealth he wants the foul to spend. Poor Shifter does his whole contrivance fet
To spend that wealth he wants the sense to get.
How happy would appear to each his fate,
Had Gripe his humour, or he Gripe's estate!
Kind Fate and Fortune, blend them if you can,
And of two wretches make one happy man !
UPON SOME ALTERATIONS IN HER FACE.
H, Cælia! where are now the charms
That did fuch wondrous paffions move?
Time, cruel Time, thofe eyes difarms,
And blunts the feeble darts of Love.
What malice does the tyrant bear
To womens' intereft, and to ours?
Beauties in which the public fhare,
The greedy villain first devours.
Who, without tears, can fee a prince
That trains of fawning courtiers had,
Abandon'd, left without defence?
Nor is thy hapless fate lefs fad.
Thou who fo many fools haft known,
And all the fools would hardly do,
Shouldft now confine thyfelf to one!
And he, alas! a hufband too.
See the ungrateful flaves, how fast
They from thy fetting glories run;
And in what mighty crowds they hafte
To worship Flavia's rifing fun!
In vain are all the practis'd wiles,
In vain those eyes would love impart;
Not all th' advances, all the smiles,
Can move one unrelenting heart.
While Flavia, charming Flavia, ftill
By cruelty her cause maintains;
And fcarce vouchfafes a careless smile
To the poor flaves that wear her chains.
Well, Calia, let them wafte their tears;
But fure they will in time repine,
That thou haft not a face like hers,
Or fhe has not a heart like thine.
LL hail, ye fields, where conftant peace attends!
All hail, ye facred folitary groves!
All hail, ye books, my true, my real feiends,
Whofe converfation pleases and improves !
Could one who'study'd your fublimer rules
Become fo mad to fearch for joys abroad?
To run to towns, to herd with knaves and fools,
And undiftinguifh'd pafs among the crowd?
One to ambitious fancy's made a prey,
Thinks happiness in great preferment lies;
Nor fears for that his country to betray,
Curst by the fools, and laught at by the wife.
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