You then defpife the tinsel glittering snare ;
Think vile mankind below a ferious care.
Life is too fhort for any distant aim;
And cold the dull reward of future fame :
Be happy then while yet you have to live;
And love is all the bleffing heav'n can give.
Fir'd by new paffion you address the fair ;
Survey the opera as a gay parterre :
Young Cloe's bloom had made you certain prize,
But for a fide-long glance from Celia's eyes:
Your beating heart acknowledges her power;
Your eager eyes her lovely form devour;
You feel the poifon fwelling in your breaft,
And all your foul by fond defire poffefs'd.
In dying fighs a long three hours are past ;
To fome affembly with impatient haste,
With trembling hope, and doubtful fear you move,
Refolv❜d to tempt your fate, and own your love :
But there Belinda meets you on the stairs,
Eafy her fhape, attracting all her airs ;
A fmile fhe gives, and with a smile can wound;
Her melting voice has mufick in the found;
Her every motion wears refiftless grace;
Wit in her mien, and pleasure in her face:
Here while you vow eternity of love,
Cloe and Celia unregarded move.
Thus on the fands of Afric's burning plains,
However deeply made, no long impress remains ;
The lighteft leaf can leave its figure there;
The strongest form is scattered by the air.
So yielding the warm temper of your mind,
So touch'd by ev'ry eye, so tofs'd by wind;
Oh! how unlike the heav'n my foul design'd!
Unseen, unheard, the throng around me move ;
Not wishing praife, infenfible of love:
No whispers foften, nor no beauties fire;
Careless I fee the dance, and coldly hear the lyre.
So num'rous herds are driven o'er the rock;
No print is left of all the paffing flock:
So fings the wind around the folid ftone:
So vainly beat the waves with fruitless moan.
Tedious the toil, and great the workman's care,
Who dare attempt to fix impreffions there:
But should fome fwain more skilful than the rest,
Engrave his name upon this marble breast,
Not rolling ages cou'd deface that name ;
Thro' all the ftorms of life 'tis ftill the fame :
Tho' length of years with mofs may fhade the ground, Deep, tho' unfeen, remains the fecret wound.
Design'd to be spoken by Mrs. OLDFIELD.
HAT cou'd luxurious woman wish for more,
To fix her joys, or to extend her pow'r?
Their every wish was in this Mary seen,
Gay, witty, youthful, beauteous, and a queen.
Vain useless bleffings with ill condu&t join’d!
Light as the air, and fleeting as the wind.
Whatever poets write, and lovers vow,
Beauty, what poor omnipotence haft thou!
Queen Befs had wisdom, council, power, and laws;
How few efpous'd a wretched beauty's cause!
Learn thence, ye fair, more folid charms to prize,
Contemn the idle flatt'ters of your eyes.
The brightest object shines but while 'tis new ;
That influence leffens by familiar view.
Monarchs and beauties rule with equal sway,
All ftrive to ferve, and glory to obey;
Alike unpitied when depos'd they grow→→→→→
Men mock the idol of their former vow.
Two great examples have been shown to-day,
To what fure ruin paffion does betray;
What long repentance to fhort joys is due;
When reafon rules, what glory does enfue.
If you will love, love like Eliza then Love for amusement, like those traytors men. Think that the pastime of a leisure hour She favour'd oft-but never shar'd her pow'r. The traveller by defart wolves purfu'd, If by his art the savage foe's fubdu'd, The world will ftill the noble act applaud, Tho' victory was gain'd by needful fraud. Such is, my tender fex, our helpless case; And fuch the barbarous heart, hid by the begging face. By passion fir'd, and not with-held by shame, They cruel hunters are; we, trembling game. Truft me, dear ladies, (for I know 'em well) They burn to triumph, and they figh to tell : Cruel to them that yield, cullies to them that fell. Believe me, 'tis by far the wifer course, Superior art fhould meet fuperior force : Hear, but be faithful to your int'rest still : Secure your hearts-then fool with whom you will.
And idly languish life away?
While the fighing crowd admire,
"Tis too foon for hartfhorn tea.
All thofe difmal looks and fretting
Cannot Damon's life reftore;
Long ago the worms have eat him,
You can never fee him more.
Once again confult your toilette,
In the glass your face review:
So much weeping foon will spoil it,
And no fpring your charms renew.
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