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"Damon, 'tis time we should retire:

"The man you talk with is Mat Prior.

Patron through life, and from thy birth my friend, Dorfet! to thee, this Fable let me fend:

With Damon's lightness weigh thy folid worth:
The foil is known to fet the diamond forth:
Let the feign'd Tale this real moral give,
How many Damons, how few Dorfets, live!

THE FEMALE PHAETON.

ΤΗ

HUS Kitty, beautiful and young,
And wild as colt untam'd,

Bespoke the Fair from whence the fprung,
With little rage inflam'd:

Inflam'd with rage at fad restraint,
Which wife Mamma ordain'd;
And forely vext to play the Saint,
Whilft Wit and Beauty reign'd:

"Shall I thumb holy books, confin'd
With Abigails, forfaken ?
Kitty 's for other things defign'd,

Or I am much mistaken.

Muft Lady Jenny frisk about,

And vifit with her coufins ?

At balls must be make all the rout,
And bring home hearts by dozens ?

Lady Catharine Hyde, now duchefs of Queensberry.

What has the better, pray, than I,
What hidden charms to boast,
That all mankind for her fhould die;
Whilft I am scarce a toast?

Dearest Mamma! for once let me,
Unchain'd, my fortune try;
I'll have my Earl as well as She*,
Or know the reason why.

I'll foon with Jenny's pride quit score,
Make all her lovers fall:

They 'll grieve I was not loos'd before;
She, I was loos'd at all."

Fondness prevail'd, Mamma gave way;
Kitty, at heart's defire,

Obtain'd the chariot for a day,
And fet the world on fire.

THE JUDGEMENT OF VENUS.

WHEN Kneller's works of various grace

Were to fair Venus fhown;

The Goddefs fpy'd in every face

Some features of her own.

Juft fo! (and pointing with her hand)
So fhone, fays fhe, my eyes †,
When from two Goddeffes I gain'd
An apple for a prize.

* The Earl of Effex married Lady Jane Hyde.

Lady Ranelagh.

Q3

When

When in the glass, and river too,

My face I lately view'd,
Such was I, if the glass be true,
If true the crystal flood.

In colours of this glorious kind*
Apelles painted me;

My hair thus flowing with the wind,

Sprung from

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Like this †, diforder'd, wild, forlorn,,
Big with ten thousand fears,
Thee, my Adonis, did I mourn,

Ev'n beautiful in tears.

But, viewing Myra plac'd apart,
I fear, fays fhe, I fear,
Apelles, that Sir Godfrey's art
Has far furpafs'd thine here.

Or I, a Goddefs of the fkies,
By Myra am undone,

And muft refign to her the prize,

The apple, which I won.

But, foon as she had Myra feen,
Majeftically fair,

The fparkling eye, the look ferene,

The gay and eafy air;

With fiery emulation fill'd,

The wondering Goddefs cry'd,
Apelles muft to Kneller yield,

Or Venus muft to Hyde.

*Lady Salisbury.

Lady Jane, fifter to the duke

of Douglas; afterwards married to Sir John Stewart.

DAPHNE

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ABATE, fair fugitive, abate thy fpeed,

Difmifs thy fears, and turn thy beauteous head;

With kind regard a panting lover view ;
Lefs fwiftly fly, lefs fwiftly I'll pursue:
Pathlefs, alas! and rugged is the ground,

Some ftone may hurt thee, or fome thorn may wound.
DAPHNE (afide).

This care is for himself, as fure as death!

One mile has put the fellow out of breath;
He 'll never do, I'll lead him t' other round;
Washy he is, perhaps not over-found.

APOLLO.

You fly, alas! not knowing whom you fly;
Nor ill-bred fwain, nor rufty clown,*am I:
I Claros ifle and Tenedos command

Thank

you:

DAPHNE.

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I would not leave my native land.
APOLLO.

What is to come, by certain arts I know.

DAPHNE.

Pifh! Partridge has as fair pretence as you.

Q4

APOLLO.

APOLLO.

Behold the beauties of my locks

--

A fig !

DAPHNE.

That may be counterfeit, a Spanish wig.
Who cares for all that bush of curling hair,
Whilft your smooth chin is fo extremely bare?

I fing

APOLLO.

DAPHNE.

That never fhall be Daphne's choice:

Syphacio had an admirable voice.

APOLLO.

Of every herb I tell the myftic power; To certain health the patient I restore; Sent for, carefs'd

DAPHNE.

Ours is a wholesome air;

You'd better go to town, and practise there :
For me, I've no obftructions to remove :
I'm pretty well; I thank your father Jove :
And Phyfick is a weak ally to Love.

APOLLO.

For learning fam'd, fine verfes I compofe.
DAPHNE.

So do your brother quacks and brother beaux.
Memorials only, and Reviews, write profe.

APOLLO.

From the bent yew I fend the pointed reed,

Sure of its aim, and fatal in its speed.

DAPHNE.

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