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The Cyprian queen with cruel joy

Beholds her rival's charms o'erthrown,

Nor doubts, like mortal Fair, t' employ
Their ruins to augment her own.

From out the fpoils of ev'ry grace

The goddess picks fome glorious prize, Transplants the roses from her face,

And arms young CUPIDS from her eyes.

Now DEATH (ah veil the mournful scene!)
Had in one moment pierc'd her heart,

Had kinder FATE not stept between,

And turn'd afide th' uplifted dart.

What frenzy bids thy hand essay,

He cries, to wound thy fureft friend, Whose beauties to thy realms each day

Such num'rous crowds of victims fend?

Are not her eyes, where-e'er they aim,
As thine own filent arrows fure?

Or who, that once has felt their flame,
Dar'd e'er indulge one hope of cure?

DEATH,

DEATH, thus reprov'd, his hand restrains,
And bids the dire diftemper fly:

The cruel beauty lives, and reigns,

That thousands may adore, and die.

WRITTEN IN

MR. LOCKE's ESSAY ON HUMAN

L

UNDERSTANDING.

ONG had the mind of man with curious art

Search'd nature's wond'rous plan thro' ev'ry part,

Meafur'd each tract of ocean, earth, and sky,
And number'd all the rolling orbs on high;
Yet ftill, fo learn'd, herfelf fhe little knew,
Till LOCKE's unerring pen the portrait drew.

So beauteous EVE a while in Eden ftray'd,
And all her great Creator's works survey'd ;
By fun, and moon, she knew to mark the hour,
She knew the genus of each plant and flow'r;

She knew, when sporting on the verdant lawn,
The tender lambkin and the nimble fawn:
But still a ftranger to her own bright face,
She guess'd not at its form, nor what she was;
Till led at length to fome clear fountain's fide,
She view'd her beauties in the crystal tide;
The shining mirror all her charms difplays,
And her eyes catch their own rebounded rays.

WRITTEN IN A

LADY'S VOLUME OF TRAGEDIES.

INCE thou, relentless maid, canft daily hear

SINC

Thy flave's complaints without one figh or tear, Why beats thy breast, or thy bright eyes o'erflow At these imaginary scenes of woe?

Rather teach these to weep and that to heave,
At real pains themselves to thousands give;
And if fuch pity to feign'd love is due,

Confider how much more you owe to true.

CUPID RELIEVED.

AS

S once young CUPID went aftray

The little god I found;

I took his bow and fhafts away,

And faft his pinions bound.

At CHLOE's feet my spoils I caft,
My conquest proud to show;

She faw his godship fetter'd fast,
And fmil'd to fee him fo.

But ah! that smile fuch fresh fupplies
Of arms refiftless gave!

I'm forc'd again to yield my prize,
And fall again his flave.

THE

THE WAY TO BE WISE.

IMITATED FROM LA FONTA INÉ.

OOR JENNY, am'rous, young, and gay,

POOR

Having by man been led aftray,

To nunn'ry dark retir'd;

There liv'd, and look'd fo like a maid,

So feldom eat, so often pray'd,
She was by all admir'd.

The lady ABBESS oft would cry,

If any fifter trod awry,

Or prov'd an idle flattern;

See wife and pious Mrs. JANE,

A life fo ftrict, fo grave a mien,
Is fure a worthy pattern.

A pert young flut at length replies,
Experience, madam, makes folks wife,

'Tis that has made her fuch;

And we, poor fouls, no doubt fhou'd be

As pious, and as wife, as fhe,

If we had seen as much.

VOL. I.

M

LUSUS

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