Nor is it, that I know, recorded,
How bows were made, and fpeeches worded;
So, leaving this to each one's guess,
I'll only tell you the fuccefs.
But first I ftop awhile to fhew
What happen'd lately here below.
Chlorinda, who beyond compare
Of all the fair ones is moft fair;
Chlorinda, by the Gods defign'd
To be the pattern of her kind,
With every charm of face and mind;
Glanc'd light'ning from her eyes fo blue, i
And fhot poor Strephon through and through.
He, over head and ears her lover,
Try'd all the ways he could to move her;
He figh'd, and vow'd, and pray'd, and cry'd,
And did a thousand things beside :..
She let him figh, and pray, and cry on
But now hear more about Ixion...
The Goddess, proud, (as folks report her)
Difdain'd that mortal wight should court her,
And
yet fhe chose the fool to flatter,
To make him fancy fome great matter,
And hope in time he might get at her;
Grac'd him with now and then a fmile,
But inly scorn'd him all the while;
Refolv'd at last a trick to fhew him,
Seeming to yield and fo undo him.
Now which way, do you think, the took?
(For do't fhe would by hook or crook)
Why, thus I find it in my book.
She call'd a pretty painted cloud,
The brightest of the wand'ring crowd,
you know is queen ở th” air,
And all the clouds and vapours there
Governs at will, by nod or fummons,
As Walpole does the house of commons.
This cloud which came to her ftark naked,
She drefs'd as fine as hands could make it.
From her own wardrobe out fhe brought
Whate'er was dainty, wove or wrought.
A fmock which Pallas fpun and gave her
Once on a time to gain her favour;
A gown that ha'n't on earth its fellow,
Of finest blue and lined with yellow,
Fit for a Goddess to appear in,
And not a pin the worse for wearing.
A quilted petticoat befide,
With whalebone hoop fix fathom wide.
With these fhe deck'd the cloud, d'ye fee?
As like herself, as like could be:
So like, that could not I or you know
Which was the cloud, and which was Juno.
Thus drefs'd fhe fent it to the villain,
To let him act his wicked will on:
Then laugh'd at the poor fool aloud,
Who for a Goddess grafp'd a cloud.
This you will fay was well done on her
T'expose the tempter of her honour
But more of him you need not hear;
Only to Strephon lend an ear.
He never entertain❜d one thought
With which a Goddess could find fault;
His spotless love might be forgiven
By every faint in earth and heaven.
Juno herself, though nice and haughty,
Would not have judg'd his paffion naughty.
All this Chlorinda's felf confefs'd,
And own'd his flame was pure and chafte,
Read what his teeming Mufe brought forth,
And prais❜d it far beyond its worth :
Mildly receiv'd his fond address,
nd only blam'd his love's excefs:
Yet fhe, fo good, fo fweet, so smiling,
So full of truth, fo unbeguiling,
One way or other still devis'd
To let him fee he was defpis'd:
And when he plum'd, and grew moft proud,
All was a vapour, all a cloud.
AME Venus, a daughter of Jove's,
And amongst all his daughters most fair, Loft, it seems, t' other day the two doves,
That wafted her car through the air.
The dame made a heavy fad rout,
Ran about heav'n and earth to condole 'em;
And fought high and low to find out,
Where the biddyes were ftray'd, or who ftole 'em.
To the God, who the ftragglers should meet,
She promis'd moft tempting fine pay,
Six kiffes than honey more sweet,
And a seventh far fweeter than they.
The proposal no fooner was made,
But it put all the Gods in a flame;
For who would not give all he had
To be kiss'd by fo dainty a dame ?
To Cyprus, to Paphos they run,
Where the Goddefs oft us'd to retire; Some rode round the world with the fun, And fearch'd every country and shire.
But with all their hard running and riding,
Not a God of 'em claim'd the reward;
For no one could tell tale or tiding,
If the doves were alive or were starv'd.
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