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VENUS'S ADVICE TO THE MUSES.
HUS to the Mufes fpoke the Cyprian Dame;
My Son fhall elfe affume his potent darts,
"Twang goes the bow, my girls; have at your hearts!" The Mufes anfwer'd, "Venus, we deride "The Vagrant's malice, and his Mother's pride; "Send him to Nymphs who fleep on Ida's fhade, "To the loofe dance, and wanton mafquerade; "Our thoughts are fettled, and intent our look, "On the inftructive verfe, and moral book; "On Female idlenefs his power relies;
But, when he finds us studying hard, he flies.”
CUPID TURNED PLOUGHMAN.
IS lamp, his bow, and quiver, laid afide,
Elfe you again beneath my yoke fhall bow,
PONTIUS (who loves, you know a joke,
Much better than he loves his life)
Chanc'd t'other morning to provoke
Her own! most certain, t'other faid;
For Nan, who knows the thing, will tell ye, The hair was bought, the money paid,
And the receipt was fign'd Ducailly.
Pontia (that civil prudent fhe,
Who values wit much less than sense,
And never darts a repartee,
But purely in her own defence)
Reply'd, thefe friends of yours, my dear,
Sometimes lefs wit, and more good-nature.
Now I have one unlucky thought,
That would have fpoil'd your friend's conceit; Some hair I have, I'm fure, unbought:
Pray bring your Brother Wits to fee't.
CUPID TURNED STROLLER.
T dead of night, when stars appear,
And ftrong Boötes turns the Bear
Who's there! fays I, who knocks so late,
He faid, but open, open pray ;
Against the fire, and dry'd his hair;
Obferve, I pray, if all be right;.
TO A POET OF QUALITY,
Praifing the LADY HINCHINBROKE.
F thy judicious Mufe's fenfe,
Young Hinchinbroke fo very proud is,
That Sachariffa and Hortenfe
She looks, henceforth, upon as dowdies. Yet fhe to one must still submit,
To dear Mamma must pay her duty,
She wonders, prafing Wilmot's wit,
Thou should't forget his daughter's beauty.
PEDA N T.
YSANDER talks extremely well;
His tropes and figures will content ye :-
The art of talk; he practifes
Full fourteen hours in four-and-twenty.
O good a Wife doth Liffy make,
IN CURA BL E.
PHILLIS, you boaft of perfect health in vain,
And laugh at thofe who of their ills complain :
WHILST I in prifon or in court look down,
Nor beg thy favour, nor deferve thy frown,
In vain, malicious Fortune, haft thou try'd,
And, would'st thou have me humbled, make me great.