PRESENTING TO A LADY

A WHITE ROSE AND A RED,

ON THE TENTH OF JUNE.

If this pale Rose offend your sight,
It in your bosom wear,

"Twill blush to find itself less white,
And turn Lancastrian there :

But, Celia, should the red be chose,
With gay vermilion bright,
'Twould sicken at each blush that glows,
And in despair turn white.

Let politicians idly prate,
Their Babels build in vain ;
As uncontrolable as Fate
Imperial Love shall reign.

Each haughty faction shall obey,
And Whigs and Tories join,
Submit to your despotic sway,
Confess your right divine.

Yet, this, my gracious Monarch! own,
They're tyrants that oppress;
'Tis mercy must support your throne,
And 'tis like Heav'n to bless.

TO PHYLLIS.

THOUGH close immur'd, poor captive Maid!
Young Danaë play'd a wanton's part,
The gold that in her lap was laid
Soon found a passage to her heart.
Ambitious Semele, beguil'd
By Juno's unrelenting hate,
Amid the bright destruction smil'd ;
Enjoy'd her God, and died in state.

The swan on Leda's whiter breast,
Artful deceiver! nestling lay;
With joy she clasp'd her downy guest,
Fond of a bird so soft and gay.

What boon can faithful merit share,
Where interest reigns, or pride, or show?

"Tis the rich banker wins the fair,

The garter'd knight, or feather'd beau.

No more my panting heart shall beat,
Nor Phyllis claim one parting groan;
Her tears, her vows, are all a cheat,
For woman loves herself alone.

THE COQUETTE.

WHEN tortur'd by the cruel fair,
And almost mad with wild despair,
My fleeting spirits rove,

One cordial glance restores her slave,
Redeems me from the gaping grave,
And soothes my soul to love.

Thus in a sea of doubt I'm tost,

Now sunk, now thrown upon the coast:
What wretch can long endure
Such odd perplexing pangs as these,
When neither mortal the disease,
Nor yet complete the cure?

Proud tyrant! since to save or kill
Depends on thy capricious will,
This milder sentence give;
Reverse my strange untoward fate;
O! let me perish by thy hate,
Or by thy kindness live!

TO A DISCARDED TOAST.

CELIA, confess 'tis all in vain

To patch the ruins of thy face; Nor of ill-natur'd Time complain, That robs it of each blooming grace.

If Love no more shall bend his bow,
Nor point his arrows from thine eye,
If no lac'd fop nor feather'd beau
Despairing at thy feet shall die;

Yet still, my charmer! wit like thine
Shall triumph over age and fate;
Thy setting beams with lustre shine,
And rival their meridian height.

Beauty, fair flow'r! soon fades away,
And transient are the joys of love;
But wit and virtue ne'er decay,

Ador'd below, and bless'd above.

THE SUPERANNUATED LOVER.

DEAD to the soft delights of love,
Spare me, O! spare me, cruel boy!
Nor seek in vain that heart to move
Which pants no more with amorous joy.
Of old, thy faithful hardy swain,

(When smit with fair Pastora's charms) I serv'd thee many a long campaign, And wide I spread thy conquering arms.

Now, mighty God! dismiss thy slave,
To feeble age let youth succeed;
Recruit among the strong and brave,
And kindly spare an invalid.
Adieu, fond hopes, fantastic cares,
Ye killing joys, ye pleasing pains!
My soul for better guests prepares;
Reason restor'd, and virtue reigns.

But why, my Cloe! tell me why,
Why trickles down this silent tear?
Why do these blushes rise and die?
Why stand I mute when thou art here?

Ev'n sleep affords my soul no rest,
Thee bathing in the stream I view;
With thee I dance, with thee I feast,
Thee through the gloomy grove pursue.

Triumphant god of gay desires!

Thy vassal's raging pains remove;
I burn, I burn, with fiercer fires,
Oh! take my life, or crown my love.

ADVICE TO THE LADIES.

WHO now regards Chloris,her tears,and her whining, Her sighs, and fond wishes, and awkward repining? What a pother is here, with her amorous glances, Soft fragments of Ovid, and scraps of romances!

A nice prude at fifteen! and a romp in decay! Cold December affects the sweet blossoms of May; To fawn in her dotage, and in her bloom spurn us, Is to quench love's bright torch, and with touchwood to burn us.

Believe me, dear maids! there's no way of evading; While you pish and cry Nay, your roses are fading: Though your passion survive, your beauty will dwindle,

And our languishing embers can never rekindle.

When bright in your zeniths, we prostrate before ye, When ye set in a cloud, what fool will adore ye? Then,ye fair! be advis'd, and snatch the kind blessing, And show your good conduct by timely possessing.

ANACREONTIC.

TO CLOE, DRINKING.

WHEN, my dear! you resign

One happy hour to mirth and wine,
Each glass you drink still paints your face
With some new victorious grace;