And ftandards with distinguish'd honours bright, And, as fine art the spaces may dispose, Beneath, great Queen, oh! very far beneath, And when thy will, and when thy fubject's hand, HER A RIGHT S Nancy at her toilet fat, NAME. Admiring this, and blaming that; May say, how red, how round, how fweet Old Homer only could indite Their vagrant grace and foft delight: They ftand recorded in his book, CANTATA. ANT AT A. C A Set by Monfieur GALLIARD. RECIT. BENEATH a verdant laurel's ample shade, His lyre to mournful numbers ftrung, Horace, immortal bard, fupinely laid, Listening, dwelt on every found. Yet, Venus, why do I each morn prepare The fragrant wreath for Cloe's hair? And why all night pursue her in my dreams, RECIT. Thus fung the Bard; and thus the Goddess spoke = Shall own my rule, and fear my rage: prove, That all the world was born to love. ARIET. Bid thy deftin'd lyre difcover Soft defire and gentle pain: Often praife, and always love her: Verse shall pleafe, and fighs fhall move her, Lines written in an OVID: A Tranflation from the FRENCH. OVID is the fureft guide, You can name, to fhew the way To any woman, maid or bride, A TRUE no; No for my virginity, J MAID. When I lose that, fays Rofe, I'll die: ANOTHER ANOTHE TEN R. EN months after Florimel happen'd to wed, And was brought in a laudable manner to bed: She warbled her groans with so charming a voice, That one half of the parish was ftunn'd with the noife. But, when Florimel deign'd to lie privately in, Ten months before she and her fpouse were a-kin; She chose with fuch prudence her pangs to conceal, That her nurfe, nay her midwife, fcarce heard her once fqueal. Learn, hufbands, from hence, for the lives, peace of y your That maids make not half fuch a tumult as wives. A REASONABLE AFFLICTION. N his death-bed poor Lubin lies; ON His fpoufe is in defpair : With frequent fobs, and mutual cries, A different caufe, fays parfon Sly, The fame effect may give : Poor Lubin fears, that he fhall die; T Another |