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His op'ning fingers drop the flacken'd rein,
And the pale corse falls headlong to the plain.
Beneath her pencil here two wrestlers bend;
See, to the grasp her swelling nerves diftend;
Diana's arrow joins them face to face,
And death unites them in a strict embrace.
Another here flies trembling o'er the plain;
When heav'n pursues we fhun the stroke in vain,
This lifts his supplicating hands and eyes,
And 'midit his humble adoration dies.
As from his thigh this tears the barbed dart,
A surer weapon strikes his throbbing heart :
While that to raise his wounded brother tries,
Death blafts his bloom, and locks his frozen eyes.
The tender sisters bath'd in grief appear,
With fable garments and dishevell’d hair,
And o'er their gasping brothers weeping stood ;
Some with their treffes stopt the gushing blood,
They strive to stay the fleeting life too late,
And in the pious action share their fate.
Now the proud dame o'ercome by trembling fear,
With her wide robe protects her only care ;
To save her only care in vain she tries,
Close at her feet the latest victim dies.
Down her fair cheek the trickling forrow flows,
Like dewy spangles on the blushing rose,
Fixt in astonishment she weeping stood,
The plain all purple with her children's blood ;

She

She stiffens with her woes: no more her hair
In easy ringlets wantons in the air
Motion forsakes her eyes, her veins are dry'd,
And beat no longer with the fanguine tide;
All life is filed, firm marble now she grows,
Which still in tears the mother's anguish shows,

Ye haughty fair, your painted fans display,
And the just fate of lofty pride survey ;
Tho' lovers oft extol your beauty's power,
And in celestial fimilies adore,
Though from your features Cupid borrows arms,
And goddesses confefs inferior charms,
Do not, vain maid, the flatt'ring tale believe,
Alike thy lovers and thy glass deceive.

Here young Narcissus o'er the fountain stood, And view'd his image in the crystal food; The crystal flood reflects his lovely charms, And the pleas'd image strives to meet his arms. No nymph his unexperienc'd breast fubdu’d, Echo in vain the flying boy pursu'd, Himself alone the foolish youth admires, And with fond look the smiling Ahade desires : O’er the smooth lake with fruitless tears he grieves, His spreading fingers shoot in verdant leaves, Through his pale veins green sap now gently flows, And in a short-liv'd flow'r his beauty blows.

Let vain Narcissus warn each female breast, That beauty's but a transient good at best.

Like flow'rs it withers with th' advancing year,
And age like winter robs the blooming fair.
Oh Araminta, cease thy wonted pride,
Nor longer in thy faithless charms confide;
Ev'n while the glass reflects thy sparkling eyes,
Their lustre and thy rosy colour flies !

Thus on the fan the breathing figures shine,
And all the pow'rs applaud the wise defign.

The Cyprian queen the painted gift receives, And with a grateful bow the fynod leaves. To the low world she bends her steepy way, Where Strephon pass’d the solitary day; She found him in a melancholy grove, His down-caft eyes betray'd defponding love, The wounded bark confess'd his fighted flame, And ev'ry tree bore false. Corinna’s name ; In a cool shade he. lay with folded arms, Curses his fortune, and upbraids her charms, When Venus to his wond'ring eyes appears, And with these words relieves his am'rous cares :

Rise, happy youth, this bright machine survey,
Whole ratt’ling sticks my busy fingers sway,
This present shall thy cruel charmer move,
And in her fickle bofom kindle love.

The fan fhall flutter in all female hands,
And various fashions learn from various lands.
For this, shall elephants their ivory shed;
And polith'd sticks the waving engine spread:

3

His clouded mail the tortoise shall resign,
And round the rivet pearly circles shine.
On this shall Indians all their art employ,
And with bright colours ftain the gaudy toy;
Their paint shall here in wildest fancies flow,
Their dress, their customs, their religion show ;
So shall the British fair their minds improve,
And on the fan to diftant climates rove.
Here China's ladies shall their pride display,
And silver figures gild their loose array ;
This boasts her little feet and winking eyes;
That tunes the fife, or tinkling cymbal plies:
Here cross-leg'd nobles in rich state shall dine,
There in bright mail distorted heroes shine.
The peeping fan in modern times shall rise,
Through which unseen the female ogle Aies;
This shall in temples the fly maid conceal,
And shelter love beneath devotion's veil.
Gay France shall make the fan her artist's care,
And with the costly trinket arm the fair.
As learned orators that touch the heart,
With various action raise their soothing art,
Both head and hand affect the lift'ning throng,
And humour each expression of the tongue;
So shall each passion by the fan be seen,
From noisy anger to the fullen spleen.

While Venus spoke, joy shone in Strephon's eyes :
Proud of the gift, he to Corinna flies.

But

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But Cupid (who delights in am'rous ill,
Wounds hearts, and leaves them to a woman's will)
With certain aim a golden arrow drew,
Which to Leander's panting bosom flew :
Leander lov’d; and to the sprightly dame
In gentle fighs reveal'd his growing flame;
Sweet smiles Corinna to his fighs returns,
And for the fop in equal passion burns.

Lo Strephon comes ! and with a suppliant bow,
Offers the present, and renews his vow.

When she the fate of Niobe beheld,
Why has my pride against my heart rebellid?
She sighing cry'd: disdain forsook her breast,
And Strephon now was thought a worthy guest.

In Procris' bosom when she saw the dart;
She justly blames her own suspicious heart,
Imputes her discontent to jealous fear,
And knows her Strephon's constancy sincere.
When on Camilla's fate her

eye

she turns,
No more for show and equipage she burns :
She learns Leander's passion to despise,
And looks on merit with discerning eyes.

Narcissus' change to the vain virgin shows,
Who trusts to beauty, trusts the fading rose.
Youth flies apace, with youth your beauty flies,
Love then, ye virgins, ere the bloffom dies.

Thus Pallas taught her. Strephon weds the dame, And Hymen's torch diffus'd the brightest Alame.

A WINTER

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