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When all my joys complete in you I find,
This flood of tears? whence are these frequent fighs
I know not what to think---am I in fault?
Yet fpeak, for my distraction grows apace,
A MORE T.
FAIR Amoret is gone aftray;
Purfue and feek her, every lover; I'll tell the figns, by which you may The wandering fhepherdefs difcover.
Coquet and coy at once her air,
Both study'd, though both feem neglected; Carelefs fhe is with artful care,
Affecting to feem unaffected.
With skill her eyes dait every glance,
Yet change fo foon you'd ne'er fufpect them; For fhe'd perfuade they wound by chance, Though certain aim and art direct them.
She likes herself, yet others hates
For that which in herself the prizes; And, while fhe laughs at them, forgets
She is the thing that she defpifes.
WHEN Lesbia firft I faw fo heavenly fair,
With eyes fo bright, and with that awful air,
Like balm the trickling nonfenfe heal'd my wound,,
DOR I S.
DORIS, a nymph of riper age,
Has every grace and art,
A wife obferver to engage,
Of native blush, and rofy dye,
Which makes the prudent nymph fupply
Her fparkling eyes fhe still retains,
And her well-furnish'd front difdains
Of fize, fhe is nor fhort, nor tall,
And does to fat incline
No more, than what the French would call
Farther, her person to disclose
I leave---let it fuffice,
She has few faults, but what she knows,
lovers has refus'd,
With many more comply'd;
Which, like her cloaths, when little us'd,
She always lays afide.
She's one, who looks with great contempt
She thinks they want or health or fenfe,
And therefore never takes offence
Since the this softness can exprefs
Of fuch whom the affects:
But here our Doris far outgoes,
All that her fex have done;
She no regard for cuftom knows,
Which reafon bids her fhun.
By reafon her own reafon 's meant,
But who o'er night obtain'd her grace,
And ftare upon the ftrange man's face,
So well she can the truth disguise,
Some cenfure this as lewd and low,
For to forget what we bestow
Doris our thanks nor afks, nor needs:
For all her favours done
From her love flows, as light proceeds Spontaneous from the fun.
On one or other still her fires
Display their genial force; And fhe, like Sol, alone retires, To shine elsewhere of courfe.