OVE's but the frailty of the mind A fickly flame, which if not fed expires, · 'Tis not to wound a wanton boy, Or amorous youth, that gives the joy; But 'tis the glory to have pierced a swain For whom inferiour beauties figh'd in vain. Then I alone the conqueft prize, When I infult a rival's eyes; If there's delight in love, 'tis when I see The heart which others bleed for, bleed for me. CONGREVE. F AIR AMORET is gone aftray, Pursue and seek her, every lover; I'll tell the figns by which you may Coquet and coy at once her air, Both ftudy'd, tho' both feem neglected, Carelefs fhe is with artful care, Affecting to feem unaffected. With skill her eyes dart every glance, Yet change fo foon you'd ne'er fufpect 'em ; For fhe'd perfuade they wound by chance, Tho' certain aim and art direct 'em, She likes herself, yet others hates For that which in herself she prizes; And, while fhe laughs at them, forgets, She is the thing that the defpifes. CONGREVE IN 'N CHLORIS all foft charms agree, Beauty from affectation free, And for eternal empire fit. But vanity fo much prevails, She begs what none else would deny her, Grows warm with every glimm'ring flame; The common prey fo deads her dart, It scarce can pierce a noble game. I could lie ages at her feet, Adore her careless of my pain, My My paffion from all change secure No favours raife, no frown controuls s; I any torment can endure But hoping with a crowd of fools. YES, FULVIA is like VENUS fair, Has all her bloom and fhape and air; But ftill to perfect every grace, The crown majestic Juno wore, And CYNTHIA's brow the crescent bore, Her train was form'd of fmiles and loves, Then Then fmile my fair; and all whofe aim Shall take their forms from you alone. SHENSTONE. I TELL thee, CHARMION, Could I time retrieve, And could again begin to love and live, For by our weak and weary truth, I find, Since women love to change, and fo do we. CONGREVE. |