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Would you enjoy foft nights, and folid dinners?
Faith, gallants, board with faints, and bed with finners.
Well, if our Author in the Wife offends,
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He has a Hufband that will make amends:
He draws him gentle, tender, and forgiving,
And fure fuch kind good creatures may be living.
In days of old they pardon'd breach of vows,
Stern Cato's felf was no relentless spouse :
Plu-Flutarch, what's his name, that writes his life?
Tells us, that Cato dearly lov'd his Wife:
Yet if a friend, a night or fo, fhould need her,
He'd recommend her as a special breeder.
To lend a wife, few here would scruple make, 35
Eut, pray, which of you all would take her back ?
Tho' with the Stoic Chief our Stage may ring,
The Stoic Hufband was the glorious thing.
The man had courage, was a fage, 'tis true,
And lov'd his country- but what's that to you?
Those ftrange examples ne'er were made to fit ye,
But the kind cuckold might inftruct the City:
There many an honest man may copy Cato,
Who ne'er faw naked sword, or look'd in Plato.
If, after all, you think it a difgrace
That Edward's Mifs thus perks it in your face;
To fee a piece of failing flesh and blood,
In all the reft fo impudently good;

Faith let the modeft Matrons of the town
Come here in crouds, and ftare the ftrumpet down. 50

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SAP PHO

TO

PHAO O N.

SAPPHO

то

PHA A O N.

AY, lovely youth, that doft my heart command,

Can Phaon's eyes forget his Sappho's hand?
Muft then her name the wretched writer prove,
To thy remembrance loft, as to thy love?
Afk not the cause that I new numbers chufe,
The lute neglected, and the Lyric muse;
Love taught my tears in fadder notes to flow,
And tun'd my heart to Elegies of woe.

I burn, I burn, as when thro' ripen'd corn
By driving winds the fpreading flames are born.
Phaon to Ætna's scorching fields retires,
While I confume with more than Etna's fires!

ECQUID, ut infpecta eft ftudiofae littera dextrae,

Protinus eft oculis cognita noftra tuis ? An, nifi legiffes auétoris nomina Sapphûs,

Hoc breve nefcires unde movetur opus?
Forfitan et quare mea fint alterna requiras

Carmina, cum lyricis fim magis apta modis.
Flendus amor meus eft: elege a flebile carmen ;
Non facit ad lachrymas barbitos ulla meas.
Uror, ut, indomitis ignem exercentibus Euris,
Fertilis accenfis meffibus ardet ager.
Arva Phaon celebrat diverfa Typho dos Etnae,
Me calor Etnaeo non minor igne coquit.

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No more my foul a charm in mufic finds,
Mufic has charms alone for peace ful minds.
Soft scenes of folitude no more can please,
Love enters there, and I'm my own disease.
No more the Lesbian dames my paffion move,
Once the dear objects of my guilty love;
All other loves are loft in only thine,
Ah youth ungrateful to a flame like mine!
Whom would not all those blooming charms furprise,
Thofe heav'nly looks, and dear deluding eyes?
The harp and bow would you like Phoebus bear,
A brighter Phoebus Phaon might appear;
Would you with ivy wreath your flowing hair,
Not Bacchus' felf with Phaon could compare:
Yet Phœbus lov'd, and Bacchus felt the flame,
One Daphne warm'd, and one the Cretan dame;
Nymphs that in verfe no more could rival me,
Than ev'n thofe Gods contend in charms with thee. 30

Nec mihi, difpofitis quae jungam carmina nervis,
Proveniunt; vacuae carmina mentis opus.
Nec me Pyrrhiades Methymniadefve puellae,
Nec me Lefbiadum caetera turba juvant.
Vilis Anactorie, vilis mihi candida Cydno:

Non oculis grata eft Atthis, ut ante, meis;
Atque aliae centum, quas non fine crimine amavi:
Improbe, multarum quod fuit, unus habes.
Eft in te facies, funt apti lufibus anni.

O facies oculis infidiofa meis!

Sume fidem et pharetram; fies manifeftus Apollo:
Accedant capiti cornua; Bacchus eris.

Et Phoebus Daphnen, et Gnofida Bacchus amavit;
Nec norat lyricos illa, vel illa modos.

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The Mufes teach me all their foftest lays,
And the wide world refounds with Sappho's praise.
Tho' great Alcæus more fublimely fings,
And ftrikes with bolder rage the founding ftrings,
No lefs renown attends the moving lyre,
Which Venus tunes, and all her loves inspire;
To me what nature has in charms deny'd,
Is well by wit's more lafting flames fupply'd.
Tho' fhort my ftature, yet my name extends
To heav'n itself, and earth's noteft ends.
Brown as I am, an Ethiopian dame
Infpir'd young Perfeus with a gen'rous flame;
Turtles and doves of diff'ring hues unite,
And gloffy jet is pair'd with fhining white.
If to no charms thou wilt thy heart refign,
But fuch as merit, fuch as equal thine,
By none, alas! by none thou canst be mov'd,
Phaon alone by Phaon must be lov'd!

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At mihi Pegafides blandiffima carmina dictant;
Jam canitur toto nomen in orbe meum.
Nec plus Alcaeus, confors patriaeque lyraeque,
Laudis habet, quamvis grandius ille fonet.
Si mihi difficilis formam natura negavit ;
Ingenio formae damna repetendo meae.
Sum brevis; at nomen, quod terras impleat omnes,
Eft mihi; menfuram nominis ipfa fero.
Candida fi non fum, placuit Cepheïa Perfeo
Andromede, patriae fufca colore fuae :
Et variis albae junguntur faepe columbae,
Et niger a viridi turtur amatur ave.
Si, nifi quae facie poterit te digna videri,

Nulla futura tua eft; nulla futura tua eft.
At me cum legeres, etiam formosa videbar
Unam jurabas ufque decere loqui.

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