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For many Days these fond Endearments past, The reconciling Bottle fails at last; 'Twas us'd and

gone, - Then Midnight Storms arole, And Looks and Words the Union discompose. Her Coach is order'd, and Post-hafte The Aies, To beg her Uncle for some fresh Supplies; Transported does the strange Effects relate, Her Knight's Conversion, and her happy State!

Why, Niece, says he, I prithee apprehend,
The Water's Water,

Be thy self thy Friend,
Such Beauty would the coldest Husband warm,
But your provoking Tongue undoes the Charm:
Be filent and complying You'll soon find,
Sir John, without a Med'cine, will be kind,


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HE Labours of the Toilet past,
The new Complexion likid at last;
The Red and white dispos'd with Art,

Each for the Day assign’d its Part;
FLAVI A now vent'ring into View,
Calls John to put the Horses to;
Trim in her Seat, drives slowly on,
And lands at fervas's by One;
Strait to the Glass she makes her Way,
Lord! I look frightfully to Day:
Now plac'd, she sets her Face to rights,
The Pow'r of all her Charms unites,
Lights up her Eyes, her Forehead braces,
And decks her Mouth in Smiles and Graces,

Fervas begins her Face to scan;
She looks as lovely as she can;
While the fly Wag, who loves a Joke,
Draws on, and Smiles at ev'ry Stroke:
Now a new FLAVI A you behold,
Form'd by his Hand, so like the old;
Survey them both, and you'll conjecture,
His Piece the LIFE, and her the PICTURE,



Gentleman in Holland,

Friend in England,

In the Year, 1703.


my absent

ROM Utrecht's silent Walks, by Winds I

Health and kind Wishes to

The Winter spent, I feel the Poet's Fire;
The Sun advances, and the Fogs retire :
The genial Spring unbinds the frozen Earth,
Dawns on the Trees, and gives the Primrose Birth.


Loos'd from their friendly Harbours, once again
Confederate Fleets assemble on the Main :
The Voice of War the gallant Soldier wakes;
And weeping CHLOE parting Kisses takes.
On new-plın'd Wings the Roman Eagle foars;
The Belgick Lyon in full Fury roars.
Dispatch the Leader from your happy Coaft,
The Hope of Europe, and Britannia's Boast :
0, Marlborough, come! fresh Laurels for Thee rise!
One Conquest more; and Gallia will grow wife.
Old Lewis makes his last Effort in Arms,
And shews how, ev'n in Age, Ambition charms.

Mean while, my Friend, the pleasing Shades I haunt, And smooth Canals; and after Riv'lets

The finooth Canals, alas! to lifeless show,
Nor to the Eye, nor to the Ear they flow.
Studious of Ease, and fond of humble Things,
Below the Smiles, below the Frowns of Kings;
Thanks to my Stars, I prize the Sweets of Life,
No seepless Nights I count, no Days of Strife.
Content to Live, content to Dye unknown,
Lord of my felf, accountable to none;
I Sleep, I Wake, I Drink, I sometimes Love,
I Read, I write, I Settle, and I Rove,
When and where-e'er I please ; thus ev'ry Hour
Gives some new Proof of my despotick Pow's.


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