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Then, full of wrath, she kick'd each lazy brute, Alas! I envied even that salute:
[say, 'Twas sure misplaced-Shock said, or seem'd to “ He had as lief I had the kick as they.” 'If she the mystic bellows take in hand, Who like the fair can that machine command ? 0, mayst thou ne'er by Æolus be seen, For he would sure demand thee for his queen! " But should the flame this rougher aid refuse, And only gentler medicines be of use, With full-blown cheeks she ends the doubtful
strife, Foments the infant flame, and puffs it into life.
Such arts as these exalt the drooping fire, But in my breast a fiercer flame inspire : I burn! I burn! 0, give thy puffing o'er, And swell thy cheeks and pout thy lips no more ! With all her haughty looks, the time I've seen When this proud damsel has more humble been; When with nice airs she hoist the pancake round, And dropp'd it, hapless fair! upon the ground. 'Look, with what charming grace, what winning
tricks The artful charmer rubs the candlesticks ! So bright she makes the candlesticks she handles, Oft have I said there were no need of candles."
* But thou, my fair! who never wouldst approve,
Thus said, and wept the sad desponding swain,
To print, or not to print—that is the question.
makes The' unwilling poet keep his piece nine years. For who would bear the' impatient thirst of fame, The pride of conscious merit, and, 'bove all, The tedious importunity of friends,
When as himself might his quietus make
THE DUKE OF BENEVENTO.
I HATE a prologue to a story
Squeaking and dinning :
Exclusive of the fame and glory,
To think you've done with the beginning.
Hearing a cry of ' Alla, Alla,
And in a fright;
And then he look'd a little grave
To find himself become a slave,
Out of all rules,
And take care of his mules :
Or a wry face, He gave a shrug, and rubb’d his mules in quiet.
Now 'twould have been great sport
To all the puppies of the court,
But their enjoyments
Not more amusing than their master's.
But who can paint his grief, Who can describe the transports of his sorrow,
When he beheld Almida's charms Conducted to Abdalla's arms,
And saw no prospect of relief: But that the blooming maid,
By cruel destiny betray'd, Must no more triumph in that name to-morrow?
Not understanding what he said,
Seeing him caper like an antic,
But she, the lovely cause of all his care,
Each favouring opportunity improve; And bade him dare to hope, and bade him dare
The Corsair, in a transport of surprise,
Her faultless figure, her majestic air,
That twined in many a fold to deck,
While fancy whisper'd to his throbbing heart
Each nameless beauty that well judging art, To fix the roving mind, had carefully conceald"O Mahomet! I thank thee (he exclaim'd),
That to thy servant thou hast given
This bright inhabitant of heaven; To gild the progress of his life below,
For him this beauteous Houri framed; Enjoyment I have known, but never loved till now.'
Then with a smile
The fair one with a little flattery
• Still may my Lord (said she) approve
Then when Almida sues, Let not Abdalla's heart her first request refuse : Deign to suspend but for three days
The progress of your amorous flame, And to console my heart for these delays, Grant me two small requests that I shall name,