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For ftruggling llaves a sharper doom sustain,
Than such as stoop obedient to the chain.
I own thy power, almighty Love! I'm thine;

With pinion'd hands behuld me here relign!
Let this submission then my life obtain ;
Small praise 'will he, if thus unarm’d I'm flain.
Go, join tlıy mother's doves; with myrtle braid thy





The god of war himself a chariot Mall prepare ;
Then thou triumphant through the shouting throng
Shalt ride, and move with art the willing birds along;
While captive youths and maids, in solemn state,
A dorn the scene, and on thy triumph wait.
There I, a later conquest of thy bow,
In chains will follow too ; and as I go,
To pitying eyes

the new-made wound will now,
Next, all that dare Love's sovereign power defy,
In fetters bound, inglorious Thall pass by:
All shall submit to thee-Th' applauding crowd 30
Shall lift their hands, and sing thy praise aloud.
Soft looks Orall in thy equipage appear,
With amorous play, mistake, and jealous fear.
Be this thy guard, great Love!-be this thy train;

Since these extend o'er men and gods thy reign; 35
But, robb’d of these, thy power is weak and vain.
From heaven thy mother thall the pomp survey,
And, smiling, scatter fragrant showers of roses in thy

way ;
Whilst thou, array'd in thy unrival'd pride,
On golden wheels, all gold thy self, fhalt ride :

40 Thy


Thy spreading wings shall richest diamonds wear,
And gems tha:) sparkle in thy lovely hair.
Thus passing by, thy arm Mall hurl around
Ten thousand fires, ten thousand hearts shall wound.
This is thy practice, Love, and this thy gain ; 45
From this thou canit no:, if thou would'ft, refrain ;
Since ev’n thy presence, with prolific heat,
Does reach the heart, and active frames create.
From conquer'd India, so the * Jovial God, 50
Drawn o'er the plains by harness'd tigers, ro:le,
Then since, great Love, I take a willing place
Amidst thy (poils, the sacred show to grace ;
O cease to wound, and let thy fatal store
Of piercing shafts be spent on me no inore. 55
No more, too powerful in my charmer's eyes,
Torment a Nave, that for her beauty dies
Or look in smiles from thence, and I shall be
A llave no longer, but a God, like thee !

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Come, my Muse, a Venus draw;

Not the same the Grecians faw, By the fam'd Apelles wrought, Beauteous offspring of his thought.

* Bacchus.







No fantastic goddess mine,
Fiction far she does outshine.

Queen of fancy ! hither bring
On thy gaudy-feather'd wing
All the beauties of the spring.
Like the bee's industrious pains
*To collect his golden gains,
So from every flower and plant
Gather first th’immortal paint.
Fetch me lilies, fetch me roses,
Daisies, violets, cowslip-pofies.
Amaranthus' parrot pride,
Woodbines, Pinks, and what befide
Does th’enbroider'd meads adorn,
Where the fawns and satyrs play
In the merry month of May.
Steal the blush of opening morn;
Borrow Cynthia's filver white,
When she shines at noon of night,
Free from clouds to veil her light.
Juno's bird his tail Ahall spread,
Iris' bow its colours fhed,
All to deck this charming piece,
Far surpaffing ancient Greece.

Firft her graceful stature show,
Not too tall, not yet too low.
Fat she must not be, nor lean ;
Let her Mape be straight and clean
Small her waste, and, thence increast,
Gently swells her rising breast.







Next, in comely order trace
All the glories of her face.
Paint her neck of Ivory, ·
Smiling cheeks, and forehead high,
Ruby lips, and sparkling eyes,
Whence resistless lightning flies.

Foolish Mure! what hast thou done?
Scarce th' Outlines are yet begun,
Ere thy pencil's thrown aside!
'Tis no matter, Love reply'd ;
(Love's unlucky God stood by)
At one stroke behold how I
Will th’ unfinith'd draught supply.

Smiling then he took his dart,
And drew her picture in my heart.

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B A R:N. EL M S.

LET Phoebus his late happiness rehearse,

And grace Barn-Elms with never-dying verse!
Smooth was the Thames, his waters sleeping lay,
Unwak'd by winds that o'er the surface play;
When th' early god, arising from the East,

Disclos’d the golden dawn, with blushes drest.
First in the stream his own bright form he sees,
But brighter forms. shine through the neighbouring

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He speeds the rising day, and sheds his light
Redoubled on the grove, to gain a nearer fight.
Not with more speed his Daphne he pursued,
Nor fair Leucothoe with such pleasure view’d;
Five dazzling nymphs in graceful pomp appear ;
He thinks his Daphne and Leucothoe here,
Join'd with that heavenly three, who on mount Ide 15
Descending once the prize of beauty tryd.
Ye verdant Elms, that towering grace


grove, Be sacred still to Beauty, and to Love! No thunder break, nor lightning glare between Your twisted boughs, but such as then was seen. The grateful fun will every morning rise Propitious here, saluting from the skies Your lofty tops, indulg'd with sweetest air, And every fpring your lofies he'll repair ; Nor his own laurels more shall be his care.


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A altar raise to Friendship’s holy flame,

Inscrib'd with Phæbe's and Asteria's name!
Around it mingled in a solemn band,
Let Phoebe's lovers, and Asteria's stand,

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