f

To a FRIEND..

Martial Ep. 58. Lib. 1. Qualem

Y

velit Puellam.

、,

OU ask, Dear WILL, what we difdaing!

What Girls our Fancy please lot H tul We like nothofe give too much Pain,, 10. Jum, Bhod? Nor thofe we win with Eafe:allestud

For those our Paffions starve, and these will clay,on

The Middle only gives the greatest Joy. Cym¶ ein

An EPITAPH on D-Scotus, who was bury'd alive.

HAT Heav'n declar'd, and all Men did (affert,

WH

SCOT render'd doubtful, and wou'd controvert: Death doubting how he fhou'd requite his Pains, Inter'd him quick, and then dafh'd out his Brains.

A SONG

A SONG by by ES, On Mrs. S T

I.

HLOE has Wit, and Senfe, at Will,

CH

Nor wants a charming Face ;

My Soul of Wit may take its Fill

Whilft I her Bofom prefs.

II.

What Joys, what tender melting Bliss
Might pretty CHLOE give?

She can beftow all Happiness

A Mortal can receive.

III.

Were she deform'd, as she is fair,

I'd love her Wit and Sense;

Were fhe a Fool, her matchless Air,

For THAT's a Recompence.

O that thofe Eyes I ne'er had feen,

Nor heard the gentle Flows

Of her fmooth Tongue, alas! they've been

Fatal to my Repofe.

VII.

Happy I feem'd the painted Fly,

On genial Summer Days,

That freely ev'ry Flow'r does try,

Taftes all, yet never stays.

Fair

Bright Sea-born Goddefs, kind as fair,
Let her propitious be,

Accept each Vow, and grant each Pray'r,

In all resembling thee.

X.

Tho' from my Breaft my Heart is rent,

Imprifon'd cannot rove;

Grant my Request, I'll be content

Eternally to love.

Written under Mrs. A---- H---n's

PICTURE.

1

949

Drawn by Mr. VERELLS.

ITH aweful Care approach this Sacred (Place,

WIT

Nor gaze too long on
too long on this too beauteous Face.
Shun, if ye can, the charming dang'rous Sight,
Nor flock, like Moths, around a Taper's Light;
For fuch -fuch Pow'r within these dazʼling Eyes
Is couch'd, that none fees them, but feeing dies.
Like breathing Marble these round Breafts appear,
And ah! What thefe but feem, th' Originals are.
Are they not thofe ! -No Picture ye furvey;.
Speak to't it anfwers-juft in CELIA's Way.
Perhaps then 'tis her Shade, for thus, we've read,
Thus to ENE AS anfwer'd DIDO's Shade.

*

Yet 'tis not fo,for all that matchlefs Grace,

VERELLS affirms he drew from CELIA's Face.

What then to paint, may not VERELLS attain? Nought-but the Numbers CELIA Eyes have flain. Vid. Virg. En. 6. I. 467.

The