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"Damon, 'tis time we should retire :
"The man you talk with is Mat Prior.
THE FEMALE PHAETON.
HUS Kitty, beautiful and young,
Bespoke the Fair from whence the fprung,
Inflam'd with rage at fad restraint,
"Shall I thumb holy books, confin'd
Muft Lady Jenny frisk about,
And vifit with her coufins ?
At balls must be make all the rout,
*Lady Catharine Hyde, now duchefs of Queensberry.
What has the better, pray, than I,
Dearest Mamma! for once let me,
I'll foon with Jenny's pride quit score,
Make all her lovers fall:
They 'll grieve I was not loos'd before;
Fondnefs prevail'd, Mamma gave way;
Kitty, at heart's defire,
Obtain'd the chariot for a day,
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)
When from two Goddeffes I gain'd
* The Earl of Effex married Lady Jane Hyde.
When in the glass, and river too,
Such was I, if the glass be true,
In colours of this glorious kind*
My hair thus flowing with the wind,
Like this +, diforder'd, wild, forlorn,,
But, viewing Myra plac'd apart,
Or I, a Goddess of the fkies,
And must resign to her the prize,
The apple, which I won.
But, foon as she had Myra feen,
The fparkling eye, the look ferene,
With fiery emulation fill'd,
The wondering Goddess cry'd, Apelles muft to Kneller yield,
Or Venus must to Hyde.
Lady Jane, fifter to the duke
of Douglas; afterwards married to Sir John Stewart.
Imitated, from the first Book of Ovid's
"Nympha, precor, Penei, mane."
ABATE, fair fugitive, abate thy speed,
Difmifs thy fears, and turn thy beauteous head;
With kind regard a panting lover view;
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.
You fly, alas! not knowing whom you fly;
What is to come, by certain arts I know.
Pih! Partridge has as fair pretence as you.
That may be counterfeit, a Spanish wig.
That never fhall be Daphne's choice:
Syphacio had an admirable voice.
Of every herb I tell the myftic power; To certain health the patient I restore; Sent for, carefs'd
Ours is a wholesome air;
You'd better go to town, and practise there :
For learning fam'd, fine verfes I compofe.
So do your brother quacks and brother beaux.
From the bent yew I fend the pointed reed,
Sure of its aim, and fatal in its speed.