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CUPID

AS

MISTAKEN.

I.

S after noon, one fummer's day,
Venus flood bathing in a river;

Cupid a-shooting went that way,

New ftrung his bow, new fill'd his quiver.

II.

With fkill he chofe his fharpeft dart,

With all his might his bow he drew;
Swift to his beauteous parent's heart
The too-well-guided arrow flew.
III.

I faint! I die! the goddefs cried :
O cruel, could'ft thou find none other,
To wreck thy fpleen on? parricide !
Like Nero, thou haft flain thy mother.

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Poor Cupid fobbing scarce could speak;
Indeed, Mamma, I did not know ye :
Alas! how eafy my mistake?

I took you for your likeness Cloe.

VENUS MISTAKEN.

I.

WHEN Cloe's picture was to Venus fhown;

Surpriz'd, the goddess took it for her own. And what, faid fhe, does this bold painter mean? When was I bathing thus, and naked feen?

7

II. Pleas'd

II.

Pleas'd Cupid heard, and check'd his mother's pride :
And who's blind now, Mamma? the urchin cried.
'Tis Cloe's eye, and cheek, and lip, and breast:
Friend Howard's genius fancied all the rest.

I

A SONG

wine and mufick have the power
To ease the fickness of the foul;
Let Phoebus every string explore;
And Bacchus fill the fprightly bowl.
Let them their friendly aid employ,
To make my Cloe's abfence light;
And feek for pleasure, to destroy

The forrows of this live-long night.

But the to-morrow will return:

Venus, be thou to-morrow great;
Thy myrtles ftrow, thy odours burn ;
And meet thy favourite nymph in state.
Kind goddess, to no other powers

Let us to-morrow's bleffings own:
Thy darling loves fhall guide the hours;
And all the day be thine alone.

THE.

THE DOVE.

"Tantæne animis cœleftibus iræ?"

VIRG.

I.

IN

N Virgil's facred verfe we find, That paffion can deprefs or raise The heavenly, as the human mind: Who dare deny what Virgil says ?

II.

But, if they should, what our great mafter
Has thus laid down, my tale fhall prove :
Fair Venus wept the fad difafter

Of having loft her favourite Dove.
III.

In complaifance poor Cupid mourn'd;

His grief reliev'd his mother's pain;
He vow'd he 'd leave no ftone unturn'd,
But the fhould have her Dove again.
IV.

Though none, faid he, shall yet be nam'd,
I know the felon well enough:
But be the not, Mamma, condemn'd
Without a fair and legal proof.

V.

With that, his longest dart he took,
As conftable would take his ftaff:

That gods defire like men to look,
Would make ev'n Heraclitus laugh.

VOL. I.

I

VI. Love's

VI.

Love's fubalterns, a duteous band,

Like watchmen, round their chief appear:
Each had his lantern in his hand;
And Venus mafk'd brought up

VII.

the rear.

Accouter'd thus, their eager ftep
To Cloe's lodging they directed:
(At once I write, alas! and weep,
That Cloe is of theft fufpected).
VIII.

Late they fet out, had far to go:
St. Dunstan's as they pafs'd ftruck one.
Cloe, for reasons good, you know,
Lives at the fober end o' th' town.
IX.

With one great peal they rap the door,
Like footmen on a visiting-day.

Folks at her house at fuch an hour!

Lord! what will all the neighbours say?
X.

The door is open up they run:

Nor prayers, nor threats, divert their speed : Thieves! thieves! cries Sufan; we 're undone; They'll kill my miftrefs in her bed.

XI.

In bed indeed the nymph had been

Three hours for, all historians fay,

She commonly went up at ten,

Unless piquet was in the way.

XII. She

XII.

She wak'd, be fure, with strange furprizes

O Cupid, is this right or law, Thus to disturb the brightest eyes,.

That ever flept, or ever faw?

XIII.

Have you obferv'd a fitting hare,
Listening, and fearful of the ftorm
Of horns and hounds, clap back her ear,
Afraid to keep, or leave her form?
XIV.

Or have you mark'd a partridge quake,
Viewing the towering falcon nigh?
She cuddles low behind the brake :

Nor would she stay: nor dares she fly,
XV.

Then have you feen the beauteous maid
When gazing on her midnight foes,
She turn'd each way her frighted head,
Then funk it deep beneath the cloaths.
XVI.

Venus this while was in the chamber
Incognito for Sufan faid,

It smelt fo ftrong of myrrh and amber-
And Sufan is no lying maid.

XVII.

But, fince we have no prefent need
Of Venus for an episode :

With Cupid let us e'en proceed;
And thus to Cloe spoke the god :

I 2

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XVIII. Hol

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