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Chioris. Kisses are empty Joys, and soon are o'er. Daph. A Kiss betwixt the Lips is something more. Chlo. I wipe my Mouth, and where's your kisling Daph. I swear you wipe it to be kiss'd agen. (then?

Chlo. Go tend your Herd, and kiss your Cows at I am a Maid, and in my Beauty's bloom. (home;

Daph. 'Tis well remember'd, do not waste your time ; Bat wisely use it e'er you pafs your prime.

Chlo. Blown Rofes hold their Sweetness to the last, And Raisins keep their luscious native taste.

Daph. The Sun's too hot; those Olive Shades are I fain wou'd whisper something in your Ear. (near ;

Chlo. 'Tis honest talking where we may be seen, God knows what secret Mischief you may mean; I doubt you'll play the Wag, and kiss again.

Daph. At least beneath yon' Elm you need not My Pipe's in tune, if you're dispos'd to hear. [fear;

Chlo. Play by your self, I dare not venture thither: You, and your naughty Pipe go hang together.

Daph. Coy Nymph beware, lest Venus you offend: Chlo. I shall have chalte Diana still to Friend. Daph. You have a Soul, and Cupid has Dart;

Chlo. Diana will defend, or heal my Heart. Nay, fie, what mean you in this open place ? Unhand me, or, I swear, I'll scratch your Face. Let go for shame ; you make me mad for spight; My Mouth's my own; and if you kiss, l'll bite.

Daph. Away with your disembling Female Tricks: What, wou'd you 'scape the Fate of all your Sex:

Chlo. I swear I'll keep my Maidenhead 'till death, And die as pure as Queen Elizabeth.

Daph. Nay mum for that ; but let me lay thee Better with me, than with some nauseous Clown.

Chlo. I'd have you know, if I were so inclin'd,
I have been woo'd by many a wealthy Hind ;
But never found a Husband to my Mind.
Daph. But they are absent all; and I am here;

Chlo. The matrimonial Yoke is hard to bear;
And Marriage is a woful word to hear,

[down

Daph. A Scare-crow, set to frighten Fools away ; Marriage has Joys; and you shall have a fay.

Chlo. Sour Sawce is often mix'd with our Delight, You kick by Day more than you kiss by Night.

Daph. Sham Stories all; but say the worst you can, A very Wife fears neither God nor Mans

Chlo. But Child-birth is, they say, a deadly pain ; It costs at least a Month to knit again.

Daph. Diana cures the Wounds Lucina made;
Your Goddess is a Midwife by her Trade.

Chlo. 'But I shall spoil my Beauty if I bear.
Daph. But Mam and Dad are pretty names to hear.

Chlo. But there's a civil Question us'd of late;
Where lies my Jointure, where your own Estate?

Daph. My Flocks, my Fields, my Wood, my Pastures With Settlement as good as Law can make. (take, Chlo. Swear then you will not leave me on the

common, But marry me, and make an honeft Woman.

Daph. I swear by Pan (tho' he wears Horns you'll Cudge!ld and kick’d, I'll not be forc'd away. [say)

Chlo. I bargain for a wedding Bed at least, A House, and handsome Lodging for a Guest.

Daph. A House well furnish'd shall be thine to keep ; And for a Flock-bed I can sheer my Sheep.

Chlo. What Tale shall I to my old Father tell?
Daph. 'Twill make him Chuckle thou’rt beftow'd

so well.
Chlo. But after all, in Troth I am to blame
To be so loving, e'er I know your Name.
A pleasant sounding Name's a pretty thing:

Daph. Faith, mine's a very pretty Name to sing;
They call me Daphnis : Lycidas my Sire,
Both found as well as Woman can desire.
Nomea bore me ; Farmers in degree,
He a good Husband, a good Houswife the.

Chlo. Your Kindred is not much amiss, 'tis true, Yet I am somewhat better born th... you.

Daph. I know your Father, and his Family; And without boafting am as good as he, Menelaus; and no Mafter goes before.

Chlo. Hang both our Pedigrees ; not one word more; But if you love me, let me see your Living, Your House and Home; for feeing is believing. Daph. See first yon Cypress Grove, (a shade from Noon ;)

[foon. Chlo. Browze on my Goats; for I'll be with you

Daph. Feed well my Bulls, to whet your Appetite; That each may take a lusty Leap at Night.

Chlo. What do you mean (uncivil as you are,) Té touch my Breasts, and leave my Bosom bare:

Daph. These pretty Bubbies first I make my own. Chlo. Pull out your Hand, I swear, or I shall swoon. Daph. Why does thy ebbing Blood forsake thy Face?

Chlo. Throw me at least upon a cleaner place: My Linnen ruffled, and my Wastcoat soiling, [ing? What do you think new Cloaths were made for fpoil

Daph. l'll lay my Lambskins underneath thy Back; Chlo. My Head-Geer's off; what filthy work you Daph. To Venus first, I lay these Offrings by; (make!

Chlo. Nay first look round, that no body be nigh: Methinks I hear a whisp'ring in the Grove.

Daph. The Cypress Trees are telling Tales of Love.

Chlo. You tear off all behind me, and before me; And I'm as naked as my Mother bore me.

Daph. l'll buy thee better Cloaths than thefe I rear, And lie so close, I'll cover thee from Air.

Chlo. Y are liberal now; but when your turn is fped, You'll wish me choak’d with every Cruft of Bread.

Daph. I'll give thee more, much more than I have Wou'd I'cou'd coin my very Heart to Gold. (told;

Chlo. Forgive thy Handmaid (Huntress of the I see there's no resisting Flesh and Blood! [Wood.)

Daph. The noble Deed is done; my Herds I'll cull; Cupid, be thine a Calf; and Venus, thine a Bull,

Chlo. A Maid I can. a, in an unlucky Hour, But hence return, without my Virgin Aow'r.

Daph. A Maid is but a barren Name at best; If thou canst hold, i bid for Twins at least.

Thus did this happy Pair their love dispence
With mutual Joys, and gratify'd their Sense;
The God of Love was there a bidden Guest;
And present at his own mysterious Feast.
His azure Mantle underncath he spread,
And scatter'd Roses on the Nuptial Bed;
While folded in each others Arms they lay,
He blew the Flames, and furnish'd out the play,
And from their Foreheads wip'd the balmy Sweat

away.
First rose the Maid, and with a glowing Face,
Her down-caft Eyes beheld her print upon the Grass;
Thence to her Herd she sped her self in haste:
The Bridegroom started from his Trance at laft,
And piping homeward jocoundly he past.

HO RA C E Lib. 1. Ode 9.

By Mr. DRY DEN.

I.
Ehold yon' Mountain's hoary height

Snow ;

Again behold the Winter's weight

Oppress the lab'ring Woods below:
And Streams with icy Fetters bound,
Benumb’d and crampt to solid Ground.

II.
With well-heap'd Logs dissolve the cold,

And feed the genial Hearth with Fires;
Produce the Wine, that makes us bold,

And sprightly Wit and Love inspires :
For what hereafter shall betide,
God, if 'tis worth his Care, provide

Let

III.
Let him alone, with what he made,

To tofs and turn the World below;
At his Command the Storms invade;

The Winds by his Commission blow;
'Till with a Nod he bids 'em cease,
And then the Calm returns, and all is peace.

IV.
To Morrow and her Works defie,

Lay hold upon the present Hour,
And snatch the pleasures passing by,

To put them out of Fotune's pow's: Nor Love, nor Love's delights disdain, Whate'er thou geeft to Day, is Gain.

}

Secure those golden early Joys,

That Youth unfour'd with Sorrow bears,
E'èr with’ring Time the taste destroys,

With Sickness and unwieldy Years!
For a&ive Sports, for pleasing Reft,
This is the time to be pofleft;
The best is but in Season best.

VI.
The pointed Hour of promis'd Bliss,

The pleasing Whisper in the dark,
The half unwilling willing Kiss,

The Laugh that guides thee to the Mark, When the kind Nymph wou'd Coynels feign, And hides but to be found again, These, these are Joys the Gods for Youth ordain.

Vol. II.

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