But Love, Almighty Love, prevail'd at length,
Upon a poor defenceless Virgin's Strength;
Her willing Feet her longing Arms obey'd,
Her fond Purfuit her yielding Heart betray'd:
Swift as her Wishes to his Arms the flies;
Where late fhe vanquish'd, fhe becomes the Prize,
And he repays the Conqueft of her Eyes.

Now all's on Fire, no Bounds our Lovers know,
The pleafing Tide of Love begins to flow;
Clafp'd in each others Arms they prefs, they kiss,
Confume in Pleasure, and diffolve in Blifs.
Their Souls, tranfported with their pleasing Strife,
Are loft, and wander to the Verge of Life;
Each Part partakes of Nature's kind Decree,
All's cloath'd in Joy, and rapt in Ecftafie.

Here reft, my Mufe, here leave the happy Pair,
Decline the mournful Tale of their Despair;
Leave their Misfortunes to another's Care.
Let thy perpetual Entertainments be,.
Of Lovers happy to Eternity:

Of Love, that no ambitious Force can shake;
Of Love, triumphant, tho' the World's at stake;
Let ev'ry thing thou fay'ft, contribute still
T'increase the Ardour of that Flame I feel
For Happiness is weigh'd by Love alone,
By too much Liberty we are undone,

None's truly wretched, but whofe Heart's his own.

}

To Love after a long INDIFFERENCE. Welcome, thrice welcome to my frozen Heart,

Thou long departed Fire;

How cou'dit thou fo regardless be,

Of one fo true, fo fond as me,

Whofe early Thought, whofe firft Defires

Were pointed all to thee.

When in the Morning of my Day,

Thy Empire first began,

Pleas'd with the Profpect of thy Sway,

Into thy Arms I ran;

Without referve my willing Heart I gave,
Proud that I had my Freedom loft,
Contending which I ought to boast,

The making thee a Sov'raign, or my felf a Slave.

Still I am form'd to Execute thy Will,
By me declare thy Pow'r and Skill;
My Heart already by thy Fire
Is fo prepar'd, is fo refin'd,

There's nothing left behind
But infinite Desite.

O! wou'dft thou touch that lovely Maid,
(Whofe Charms and thine I have obey'd)
With fuch another Flame,

The Heav'n that would appear in me,
Would fpeak fuch Goodness dwelt in Thee,
Thy Bow, thy Art

No more need guide thy Dart;

No Heart fo ftubborn, but at that would aim.

On the Death of the Marquis of BLANDFORD.

So Pride;

early bloom'd, and fo untimely dy'd

A lofty Name, a Fortune unconfin'd,'
The sweetest Temper, the moft hopeful Mind;
The Mufes with the Graces feem'd to join,
And Manly Wit appear'd in Form Divine.

As fragrant Flow'rs that late adorn the Field,
By Clowns rude Feet opprefs'd, their Glories yield:
Such are the Toys to which vain Mortals truft,
They fade, they wither, they confume to Duft.
Unhappy Parents! now, as Patriots, act;
While here they flatter, while they there detract;

Convince even those, who seek for Caufe to blame; You toil'd with publick, more than private Aim: Since the dear Youth that did your Thoughts enflave, Lies calm and carelefs in the filent Grave.

Vaft is the Lofs that does your Souls opprefs, Yet firm, undaunted Courage makes it lefs; Here great Examples your Remarks deferve; Nor is there greater than the Queen you ferve: Reflect, when Death her fondeft Hopes beguil'd, An only Son, and that an only Child; Tho' raging Paffions tore her tender Mind, She griev'd as Woman, but as Saint refign'd. While your Misfortunes kindly to repair, Heav'n leaves four blooming Nymphs, divinely Fair.

The Enquiry of VENUS after CUPID. From the Greek of Mofchus.

ITH a loud Voice, thro' ev'ry Field and Wood,
The Queen of Love her wand'ring Son purfu'd.
Who-e'er (fays fhe) the Wanton Vagrant meets,
Loyt'ring about, or playing in the Streets,
Let him to me the joyful News convey,
And I'll with Kiffes all his Care repay.
But he who fhall reftore the ftraggling Boy
To his glad Mother, fhall my felf enjoy;
Not only Kiffes to him will I give,

But he shall thofe, and fomething more receive.
He's eafie to be known, him you may tell
From twenty others, he's remarkable:
His Body much refembles Fire, not White;
His Eyes are Flames, and piercing as the Light.
Words drop like Hony from his Lips, his Mind
Is wav'ring and unconftant, as the Wind.
A double dealing Knave, he's full of Tricks,
Andnever thinks one Word of what he speaks,

When vext, revengeful, and at Mischief glad,
Exafp'rating with Jeers the Wounds he made..
His Golden Hair in neatest Braids hang down
His Shoulders, but his Looks do feem to frown.
His Hands are small, yet pointed Darts they throw
So far, they wound the dusky King below.
Slave to no place, from this to that he flies,
And in all Hearts the lurking Villain lies.
Nor does his Pow'r on one Man vainly fall,
He blindly fhoots his unfeen Shafts at all.
Both Heav'n and Earth his guided Arrows pierce
And wound the Monarch of the Universe.
There's none but feel his mighty Pow'r, ev'n I
Have no Exemption from his Tyranny.
Phabus himself, who has fuch flore of Heat,
Whose genial Warmth doth living things beget;
If once my little Rover ftirs Defire,

Rages and burns with new contracted Fire.
Therefore whoe'er thou art that tak'ft the Boy,
Pray bind him fast, and all thy Skill employ

To bring him home; ne'er mind his Childish Tears
(The Rogue is witty far above his Years)
But if he feem well-pleas'd, and fmile, beware;
His Smiles are Treafon, ev'ry Look's a Snare.
All his fair Words (like foul Infection) shun,
And from his Gifts as from Deftruction run;
His burning Arrows, and enyenom'd Breath,
And ev'ry thing he has, is ftampt with Death..

ODE in the SPRING, to the
Returning SUN.

Welcome, thou God of Light and Heat,

Where haft thou made thy long Retreat? Thou tak'ft Delight in Indian Climes to stay, And ftill the happy Eaft.

Is with thy longeft Prefence bleft;

Or else perhaps in Am'rous Play,
Beneath th' immortal Greens of Tempe's Grove,
While feebler Hands thy Chariot drove,
Haft loiter'd with fome Object of thy Love:
Or haft thou been in Mines below,
Where Pearls and Infant Diamonds grow?
(For they their Birth to thy kind influence owe.)
But fay where-ever thou hast been,

In all thy Walks thro' Earth or Skies,
Are any Wonders thou haft seen
So dazling bright as fair Francelia's Eyes?
II.

Does Arabia's Spicy Coast

Half fo rich an Odour boaft?
Or can Java's perfum'd Air

With her fragrant Breath compare?
But why fhou'd I, to speak of her,
Confine thee to the fpace of one revolving Year?
Thou thy glorious Race haft run,

Ever fince the World begun;

Thou faw'ft when Venus from the Billows rofe, 'Twas thou firft kifs'd her Coral Mouth,

And bleft her with Eternal Youth ;

ABO

NUS

Did the young Goddefs then more Charms difclofe
Had her Mein fo good a Grace?
Was fuch Sweetnefs in her Face?
She muft yield her Rival place;
Her mighty Rival can inspire
Higher Joys and fiercer Fire.
Francelia can alone dispence
Every Charm to ev'ry Sense;
Mufick lives upon her Tongue,
She's to our Ears the Sirens Song,
And when she ftrikes our ravish'd fight,
One polish'd Beam of thy own Mid-day Light.

III.

Let other Nymphs with Art and Pains
Some poor unwary Heart betray,