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If Wealth had ferpents in his breaft,

They now were dead, or lull'd to rest.

Beauty, that vain affected thing, Who join'd the Hymeneal ring,

Approach'd with round unthinking face,

-And thus the trifler ftates her cafe.

She faid, that Love's complaints, 'twas known,

Exactly tally'd with her own;

That Wealth had learn'd the felon's arts,
And robb'd her of a thoufand hearts;
Defiring judgment against Wealth,
For falfehood, perjury, and ftealth:
All which the cou'd on oath depofe,
And hop'd the court would flit his nofe.

But Hymen, when he heard her name,
Call'd her an interloping dame;
Look'd thro' the crowd with angry state,
And blam'd the porter at the gate,
For giving entrance to the fair,

When the was no effential there.

To fink this haughty tyrant's pride,

He order'd Fancy to prefide.
Hence when debates on beauty rife,
And each bright fair difputes the prize,
To Fancy's court we ftrait apply,
And wait the fentence of her eye;
In Beauty's realms fhe holds the feals,

And her awards preclude appeals.



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By Mr. GAY. Book I.

SING that graceful toy, whose waving play With gentle gales relieves the fultry day, Not the wide fan by Perfian dames difplay'd, Which o'er their beauty cafts a grateful shade; Nor that long known in China's artful land, Which, while it cools the face, fatigues the hand: Nor shall the muse in Asian climates rove, To feek in Indoftan fome spicy grove, Where ftretch'd at ease the panting lady lies, To fhun the fervor of meridian skies, While fweating flaves catch ev'ry breeze of air, And with wide-fpreading fans refresh the fair; No bufy gnats her pleafing dreams moleft, Inflame her cheek, or ravage o'er her breaft. But artificial zephyrs round her fly,

And mitigate the fever of the fky.

Stay, wand'ring muse, nor rove in foreign climes,
To thy own native fhore confine thy rhimes.
Affift, ye nine, your loftieft notes employ,

Say what celeftial skill contriv'd the toy;
Say how this inftrument of love began,
And in immortal ftrains difplay the fan.


Strephon had long confefs'd his am'rous pain,
Which gay Corinna rally'd with disdain :
Sometimes in broken words he figh'd his care,
Look'd pale, and trembled when he view'd the fair;
With bolder freedoms now the youth advanc'd,
He drefs'd, he laugh'd, he fung, he rhim'd, he danc'd:
Now call'd more pow'rful prefents to his aid,
And, to feduce the miftrefs, brib'd the maid;
Smooth flatt'ry in her fofter hours apply'd,
The fureft charm to bind the force of pride:
But ftill unmov'd remains the fcornful dame,
Infults her captive, and derides his flame.
When Strephon faw his vows difpers'd in air,
He fought in folitude to lofe his care;
Relief in folitude he fought in vain,

It ferv'd, like mufic, but to feed his pain.
To Venus now the flighted boy complains,
And calls the goddefs in these tender strains.

O potent queen, from Neptune's empire fprung,
Whofe glorious birth admiring Nereids fung,
Who 'midst the fragrant plains of Cyprus rove,
Whofe radiant prefence gilds the Paphian grove,
Where to thy name a thousand altars rife,
And curling clouds of incenfe hide the skies:
O beauteous Goddefs, teach me how to move,

Infpire my tongue with eloquence of love.


If loft Adonis e'er thy bofom warm'd,

If e'er his eyes, or godlike figure charm'd,
Think on those hours when firft you felt the dart,
Think on the restless fever of thy heart;

Think how you pin'd in absence of the fwain :
By thofe uneafy minutes know my pain.
Ev'n while Cydippe to Diana bows,

And at her fhrine renews her virgin vows,
The lover, taught by thee, her pride o'ercame;
She reads his oaths, and feels an equal flame :
Oh, may my flame, like thine, Acontius, prove,
May Venus dictate, and reward my love.
When crowds of fuitors Atalanta try`d,

She wealth, and beauty, wit and fame defy'd;
Each daring lover with advent'rous pace
Purfu'd his wishes in the dang'rous race;
Like the swift hind, the bounding damfel flies,
Strains to the goal, the diflanc'd lover dies.
Hippomenes, O Venus, was thy care,

You taught the fwain to ftay the flying fair,
Thy golden prefent caught the virgin's eyes,
She floops; he rushes on, and gains the prize.
Say, Cyprian deity, what gift, what art,
Shall humble into love Corinna's heart;
If only fome bright toy can charm her fight,
Teach me what prefent may fufpend her flight.


Thus the defponding youth his flame declares,
The goddess with a nod his paffion hears.
Far in Cythera ftands a fpacious grove,
Sacred to Venus and the God of love;
Here the luxuriant myrtle rears her head;
Like the tall oak the fragrant branches spread ;
Here nature all her fweets profufely pours,

And paints th' enamell'd ground with various flow'rs ; Deep in the gloomy glade a grotto bends,

Wide through the craggy rock an arch extends,
The rugged ftone is cloath'd with mantling vines,
And round the cave the creeping woodbine twines.
Here bufy Cupids, with pernicious art,

Form the ftiff bow, and forge the fatal dart;
All share the toil; while fome the bellows ply,
Others with feathers teach the shafts to fly :

Some with joint force whirl round the flony wheel,
Where ftreams the fparkling fire from temper'd fteel;

Some point their arrows with the nicest skill,
And with the warlike ftore their quivers fill.
A different toil another forge employs;
Here the loud hammer fashions female toys,
Hence is the fair with ornament fupply'd,
Hence fprung the glitt'ring implements of pride;
Each trinket that adorns the modern dame,

Firft to thefe little artifts ow'd its frame.

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