Fix 'em where they should be true They are all Corinna's due If a long and awful Reign Can in Love a Right obtain Or convince me I am wrong Tell me She has rul'd too long Tell me That she was unkind That to Love she ne're inclin'd That her Arbitrary sway Taught me first to disobey Oh! instruct me what to say I confounded with my shame Dare not own another Flame Subjects when they change a King Should some Lawful Reasons bring All my Reasons seem too weak I am Dumb and cannot speak How can I such Beauty wrong One so Witty Gay and Young Every Charm and every Grace Dwells in my Corinna's Face But my Cloe is as Fair Happier in a Charming Air So much Beauty so much youth So much Innocence and Truth 'T is impossible to see And for Loving censure me Sure Corinna cannot blame Such a hopeful happy Flame When she knows that if I burn T is in hopes of a return Love thy Dictates I persue Tell me therefore what to do Shall I with Corinna part Shall I throw her from my Heart She does still my suit refuse Is not that a good excuse Oh! if 't is not tell me how Justice can my Change allow Thou didst first my Soul Inspire Thou dost set my Heart on Fire When Corinna I remove Witness all the fault is Love Let the Treachery be thine And the Frailty only mine TO CLOE PRethee Cloe not so fast Let 's not run and Wed in hast We 've a thousand things to do You must fly and I persue You must frown and I must sigh I intreat and you deny Stay If I am never crost Half the Pleasure will be lost Be or seem to be severe Give me reason to Despair Fondness will my Wishes cloy Make me careless of the Joy Lovers may of course complain Of their trouble and their pain But if Pain and Trouble cease Love without it will not please ON A PERFUME Taken out of a Young Ladie 's Bosom BEgon Bold Rival from my Fair Thou hast no Plea for Business there 'T were needless where the Lilly grows To add Perfumes or to the Rose Faint are the Sweets which thou canst give To those which in her Bosom Live Thence tender Wishes Amorous Sighs Love's Breath the richest Odours rise Not all the Spices of the East Nor Indian Grove nor Phaenix Nest Send forth an Odour to compare With what we find to please us there Where Nature has been so profuse Thy little Arts are of no use Thou canst not add a grace to her She 's all Perfection every where Speak sawcy thing for I will know How much to her and me you owe. Whence comes this sweetness so Divine Speak is it hers or is it thine Ha! Varlet by the fragrant smell 'T is her's all her's I know it well I know you rob'd Olivia's Store But hence For you shall steal no more Be gone She has no room for thee Olivia's bosom must be free For nothing but for Love and me The GROVE OH 't is sweet 't is wondrous sweet When I and Amarilis meet In a fragrant Shady Grove Full of Wishes full of Love Oh! What pretty things we say How the Minutes fly away When with glances mingling Kisses We prepare for softer Blisses On some Mossey-bank we lye Play and touch imbrace and dye Then from little feuds and jars We proceed to Amorous Wars Oh! how many Heavens we find I am Young and she is Kind Kind and Free without design Mine at Will and only mine Smiling always always toying Ever fond yet never cloying Could the coldest Hermit see Half the sweets Enjoy'd by me Happy once to see her Eyes Press her Lips and hear her Sighs Clasp her Wast and touch her Skin Soon he would forget the Sin All his darling hopes of Bliss In a distant Paradise All with ease he would resign For a minute's taste of mine To CORINNA FAir Corinna tell me why You are often heard to sigh Why your Eyes are often seen Kind as Lovers should have been Tell me Madam what you mean Something does your Soul imploy Love or Anger Grief or Joy By the Symptoms we discover Something even of a Lover Love like Murder will appear Tho' you take the greatest care Every motion will reveal What you strugle te conceal Hide it not for I perceive When your Breasts begin to heave When they rise and when they fall Then I see and know it all They in spite of all your Art Tell the Conflicts of your Heart Every throb and pant repeat Equal time and motion beat But for whom your Wishes grow That Oh! that I cannot know The PICTVRE PAinter I have often seen What a Flatterer thou hast been Take thy Pencil now and shew What thy Art with Truth can do Paint me with the nicest care One that 's young and wondrous fair Paint Corinna's Mein and Air On her Eyes imploy thy skill Make 'em Kind but make 'em Kill Make 'em soft and make 'em bright Let 'em like her own delight Draw her Fore-head then her Nose All that 's Beautiful suppose Made for Love and Lovers blisses Cheeks and Lips design'd for kisses Lips so red and Teeth so white Fancy cannnot do her right Such a white and such a red Never can be thought or said All thy Colours will not do Search abroad and seek for new See if nature can supply Colours of so fine a dye Draw her Neck and then her Breaâ—â— Draw What must not be Exprest Charm me with her shape and Skin Let her be all o're Divine In her Picture let her see What she still deny's to me Make her smile and she will own Naught so hateful as a frown TO Mr. Sergeant Inviting him into the Country COme my Thyrsis come away Don't your Joy and mine delay But to make 'em both compleat Come and taste of my retreat 'T is not such as Hermits boast When by men or Fortune crost To some Cell the Fools repair And imagine blessings there Make their virtue a pretence For ill nature and offence Shun the World which in return Treats them with neglect and scorn Nothing looks in my retreat Discontented or unsweet True 't is private and you know Love and Friendship should be so Solitude dissolves the mind Makes it pleasant free and kind All our nicest beauties here Scorn th' appearance of severe Seldom very seldom known To be fierce or force a frown Seldom are untimely coy When invited to the joy But with wondrous ease comply Or with equal Grace deny When from my Caresses free Love shall force thy thoughts from me Happy in such sweet amours We will pass our hasty hours You with Sylvia or with Phillis Constant I with Amaryllis Court and Kiss 'em all the Day All the Ev'ning toy and play All the night-hold None shall know What at night we mean to do Be it how it will you 'll find Nature only makes 'em kind Oft such pleasures may be known
You have felt 'em in the Town Yet my my Thyrsis you 'll confess Fears and Dangers make 'em less Crouds Diseases seuds and noise Render 'em imperfect joys But in shades and silence given Every Extasy is Heaven THE Country Wit A Country Wit who came to Town Was wondrous willing to be known And that he might not tarry long He saw a Play and writ a Song But this however not enough He went to Will 's and borrow'd snuff From Dryden's box with many more Who beg'd the liberty before For you must know amongst the Beaux Wit always enters by the Nose And passing quickly to the Brain Comes tickling down in verse again Our Wit thus favour'd writes apace You read the Author in his face With Sonnet Elegy and Ode He crams a Book and comes abroad But Oh! the sate of human things In vain he writes in vain he sings The Town uncivilly refuse To listen to a Country Muse And scarce will condescend to damn This mighty Candidate of fame Down to his Seat the Cox-comb goes He rail's at Criticks Wits and Beaus He swears that non-sence is prefer'd That merit never meets reward That envy makes the Criticks curse His Poems while they publish worse That spite of what they think or say He 'll write or print as well as they TO The Bath and Zelinda in it OH could I change my form like Jove In show'rs like him I 'de feast my Love And mingling with the waters play Around Zelinda's breast as they Ah! happy waves you may at large Sport in the bosom of your Charge Survey her Limbs and all her Charms And wanton in her Virgin Arms. Be civil yet and have a care You be'nt too Saucy with my fair Your Rival I shall jealous grow Nor can one eager touch allow You wildly rove you kiss embrace Her body and reflect her face You 're too Officious and presume To wâ—ndâ—â— where you should not come You croud too thick you stay too long You hurt her with your eager throng But warm her into Love and stay It shall excuse your bold delay Soften her frozen heart and Move Zelinda's Soul to think of Love Ah! melt her brest for pitty do That I may be as blest as you TO Corinna SAY Corinna do you find Nothing in your bosom kind Is it never less severe Or d' ye never wish it were Yes I read it in your eyes Hear it know it by your sighs Sighs that gently steal their way Tell me all that you should say Tell me when you seem serene You 're not always calm within But are vext with tumults there Such as oft disturb the fair Say Corinna is it true Say for I 'm a Lover too And can tell you what to do He that 's worthy to be blest Should be first of Truth possest Young and constant he must be Fixt like you and Fond like me One that all affronts can bear Exil's Jealousies Despair One on whom you may depend For a Lover and a Friend Plead not now for an excuse Man does naught like this produce Justice Madam bids you see All these qualities in me Justice tells you I am He. TO A GENTLEMAN ON HIS Being Jilted JIlted 'T is strange that you who know What women think as well as do Should in your guesses be deceiv'd But yet 't is stranger you believ'd Have not you often said that none About this dam'd intriguing Town Could scape your knowledge but you knew How matters went and who Kept who What Cit or Worship or my Lord Allow'd for Lodgings Pins or board What tricks the keeping fools were play'd Where when by whom and how betray'd No int'rest Sir could yours destroy You still came in and shar'd the Joy But when you pleas'd Keep your self And throw away a little Pelf Your Mistress's were all so true They would not touch a man but you F After this 't is something hard That others should be now prefer'd But come consider 't is no more Than Thousands have endur'd before Consider this will be the Trade While such as sell their Love are paid And there are Cullyes to be had Whilst women if they once begin To wanton doat upon the sin Whilst nature teaches them to cheat Or they find pleasure in deceit In short while men and women live Tho One will ask the Other give TO LUCINDA ON HER Recovery from an Indisposition HEaven Lucinda could not long Suffer one so Fair and Young Little able to sustain All the injury of pain To be toucht with a disease Which might interrupt her Ease Heaven always guards the fair Beauty 's always heavens care Yes Lucinda is we find Still the Same in face and mind See her Beauties how they shine Perfect all and all divine See how each returning grace Points her eyes and paints her face The Lilly and the rose succeed The sickly white and Glowing Red Ah! but see that cruel Pride Which we only wish had dy'd Waits at every glance again Little mortifi'd by Pain Settles in her eyes and shows Love and she will still be foes Had her Sickness with its smart Toucht and mollifi'd her Heart Then her illness wouid have prov'd Happy ills for such as Lov'd Had it made her undergo Half the Torments Lovers know Pitty would not now at least Have been a stranger to her Breast And pitty when it comes so near Tells us Passion is not far Unconcern'd at Health or Pain Still she flatters her disdain Ever fixt to be severe Se it Lovers and Despair THE Respectful Lover MY Mistress is I own above The humble proffer of my Love In Justice yet she must confess That nothing can disturb her less It never durst offend her Ear With what she is averse to hear But yielding to a just Despair 'T is modest still as she is Fair It wishes much and none that see Such Beauty are from Wishes free It hopes for little naught requires Nor yet discover'd its desires It dares not or it knows not how To tell her what she ought to know How long I have endur'd the Pain To Love and wish and not obtain To find my Passion is unknown Or what she sees she will not own Or what she coldly may regard She thinks unworthy a Reward THE Secend ODE OF ANACREON Translated out of the Greek NAture for defence affords Fins to Fish Wings to Birds Hoofs to Horses Claws to Bears Swiftness to the fearful Hares To Man their Master Wit and Sense But what have Women for defence Beauty is their shield and Arms Women's Weapons 〈◊〉 their Charms Beauties Weapons make us feel Deeper Wounds than those of Steel Beauty kindles warm desires Stronger than the fiercest Fires Strength and Wit before it fall Beauty Triumphs over all Written Extempore in a Young Lady's Almanack I. THink bright Myrtilla when you see The constant Changes of the Year That nothing is from Ruin free And Gayest things must disappear II. Think of your Glories in their Bloom The
Whores for scolding we should praise And Carmen have a Tiâ—â—â— to the 〈◊〉 No Sâ—tiâ—e will in brighter Colours shine Her 〈◊〉 is Dreadful but 't is all Divine In her true shape she always will appear Just and Impartial as she is severe The Court and State to her Remarks be long She will but seldom touch a private wrong Unless th' Example should be understood Or private Errors threaten publick good But where of Late in England can we find A Pard of such a vast 〈…〉 Who scorning Loss of fortune or of blood Dares venture boldly for the common good Whose Genius fits him for the great design Where strength with Grace and Majesty shall joyn One justly raving and Correctly Mad To raise the Good and Mortify the Bad Since Dryden will or must not speak at least There are None now None like to be possest No Pens rise up in Injur'd merits cause And Mine must never be the first that draws Let Love be still the subject of my Song For Love 's the proper business of the Young Ah! suffer me to tread the beaten ways Where I find pleasure if I meet no praisâ— TWO Letters of Voiture Translated With other occasional Letters To Mr. Gourdon at London SIR I Have had more Leisure than I desir'd to send you what you demanded of me at parting and the Winds instead of carrying away my promise have given me time to keep it They have already detain'd me here this eight days It would certainly have been very tedious if I had not brought those Thoughts with me from London which will entertain me yet a great while longer I 'll assure you you have your share of them and that my best Thoughts are still employ'd about you or about those Things which I saw by your means You may well mistrust that I am not now talking of the Tower or the Lyons which you were pleas d to shew me In one person only you made me see a greater Treasure than I found there and One who is at the same time more Cruel than even the Lyons or the Leopards After all this you will quickly perceive 't is the Countess of Carlile of whom I am speaking For there is none besides her of whom I can say so much Good and so much Ill. Whatever danger there is in remembring her I have not yet been able to forbear it And to be sincere I would not part with the Idea I have of her in my Breast for all that I have seen of what is most Fair or most desirable in the World I must confess she is all over a very Bewitching Lady and there would not be a person under Heaven so worthy to be Belov'd if she knew what Love was or if her Soul were but as Sensible as it is Reasonable We can say nothing of her in the condition we know her but that she is the most Lovely of all things which are not good and the most agreeable Poyson that ever Nature made I fear her Wit so much that I was once resolv'd not to let you have the Verses I send you for I know she distinguishes in all things what is Good and what is ill and that the Goodness which ought to be in her Will is wholly confin'd to her Judgment I shall be little concern'd if she condemns them they are not worthy of a better fortune they were made before I had the Honour to know Her and I should be sorry if had till now prais'd or blam'd any one to Perfection since I reserve both the one and the other for her As to you Sir I will not make any Excuse I pretend you are very much oblidg'd to me and ought to take it kindly that you have been able to perswade me to send you some bad Verses I can assure you 't is the only Copy I ever writ twice over And if you know how Lazy I am you will reckon my Obedience in this no small proof of the Power you have over me and of the Passion with whlch I would be Sir c. Dover Decemb. 4th 1633. TO Madam SAINTOT Sent with an Orlando Furioso THis Madam is certainly the Noblest Adventure of Orlando For now that he has the Honour to Kiss your Hands he performs something more for his own Glory than when he forc'd Scepters from the hands of Kings and alone defended the â—rown of Charles the Great The Title of Furioso with which he has past all over the World ought not to deter you from doing him that Honour For I am confident that in approaching you he will become more Discreet and as soon as he sees you will forget his Angelica At least this I know by Experience that you have wrought a greater Miracle than this and with one Word have Cur'd a Folly more dangerous than his And indeed 't would be more Improbable than any thing Ariosto has told us of him if he were not sensible of the Advantage you have over that Lady and if he did not confess that she would never have so much need as in your presence to fly to the Assistance of her Inchanted Ring All the Famous Knights in the World were not proof against the Charms of that Beauty She never struck the Eyes of any but at the same time she wounded an Heart and Inflam'd with her Love as many Parts of the World as the Sun Enlightens yet that Beauty was but a Picture ill Drawn of the wonderful Things we admire in you All the Collours of Poetry cannot Paint you so Fair as we behold you nor can the Imagination of Poets reach to such a height The Chambers of Chrystal and the Palaces of Diamonds which you will read of here are far more easy to be imagin'd And the Enchantments of Amadis which appear to you so Incredible are hardly more Incredible than your Own At the first sight to seize upon Souls the most Resolute and the least made for Servitude to Create in them a sort of Love which is sensible of Reason and Ignorant both of Hope and Desire to Transport with Pleasure and Glory the Minds of those from whom you have Ravish't Repose and Liberty and to render those perfectly satisfied with you to whom you never were but Cruel These are effects more strange and more distant from Probability than the Hippogrifes and flying Chariots of Ariosto or any of the most Admirable things Romances tell us of If I shou'd continue this Discourse I shou'd make a Book larger than this I send you But this Cavalier who is not us'd to give place to any Man is impatient to see me Address you so long and therefore Advances to Raccount you himself the History of his Amours 'T is a Favour which you have often refus'd to me Yet I suffer him to do it without Jealousy tho he is so much happier than I since he has promis'd me in return to present you with these Lines and oblige you to read them before any thing else
Spring of Sprightely youth improve For cruel Age alas will come And then 't will be too late to Love TO Cleora I. YOU say you never think of Love Or know not what it is Nor ever had desires to prove The sweetness of the bliss II. 'T is true you say 't and we believe However strange it seems You may not wish but pray forgive If we mistrust your Dreams III. A sleep your prejudice is gone And nothing sow'rs the mind Your wishes then a pace come on And force you to be kind IV. The Angels who your slumbers guard Your tender Breast inspire With Love and Sing the dear reward Of every soft desire V. But when you wake 't is all forgot The Vision flies away And in the Night what power it got It looses in the day VI. Your Kindness is to shades confin'd And dies before the Light By day Cleora then be kind Or be it ever night OUT OF PETRONIUS An Imitation FRuition is at best but short A silly fulsom fleeting sport Which when we 've perfectly enjoy'd We 're quickly weary quickly cloy'd Let 's then no more pollute our Breasts With fires becoming only Beasts Or rush on pleasures which when known We wish it never had been done But thus Oh! thus let 's lye and Kiss Eternity away in bliss No trouble here or pain you 'll find Nor need you blush for being kind These Raptures Cloe never cease They please us now and still will please They ne're decay as others do But thus Oh! Thus are always new OUT OF CATULLUS LIsbia let us Live and Love All our little time improve Mirth and Pleasure crown our daies Spite of what the Dotard says If the Suns may set they rise Bright again and gild the Skies Put our Day depriv'd of Light Sleep succeeds and endless night An Hundred now a Thousand more Another hundred warm and close Another thousand press 'em thus Give me kisses I am poor When the thousands num'rous grow Kiss again that none may know What you lend or what I owe While I in gross with hast repay And kiss Eternity away SONG Set by Mr. Akevoyde I. FYE Coelia Scorn the little arts Which meaner Beauties use Who think they can't secure our Hearts Unless they still refuse Are coy and shy will seem to frown To raise our Passions higher But when the poor deceit is known It quickly palls desire II. Come let 's not trifle time away Or stop you know not why Your Blushes and your Eyes betray What Death you mean to dye Let all your maiden fears be gone And Love no more be crost Ah! Coelia when the Joys are known You 'll curse the Minute 's lost SONG Sung at York-Buildings Set by Mr. King IF Corinna would but hear What impatient Love could say She would banish idle sear And with ease his Laws obey She would soon approve the Song Like the Voice and bless the Tongue II. Since to Silence I 'm confin'd Sighs and Ogles must declare What Torments my thoughtful mind How I wish and how despair All the motions of my Heart Sighs and Ogles must impart SONG Set by Mr. Williams I. WHen with Flavia I am toying She with little sports gives o're Kissing is not half Enjoying Youth and Passion covet more Every touch methinks should move her And to dearer Joys invite When she knows how much I Love her And is fond of the delight II. Oh I see her young and tender Feel her Lips with passion warm See her ready to surrender When her fears dissolve the Charm Banish Flavia all suspicion All your sullen doubts destroy Trust me there 's no worse condition Than to wish and not Enjoy SONG Set by Mr. King I. THose arts which common Beauty's move Corinna you despise You think there 's nothing wise in Love Or Eloquent in Sighs You laugh at Ogle Cant and Song And promises abuse But say for I have courted long What methods shall I use II. We must not praise your Charms and Wit Nor talk of Dart and Flame But sometimes you can think it fit To smile at what you blame Your Sex's forms which you disown Alas You can't forbear But in a minute smile and frown Are tender and severe III. Corinna let us now be free No more your Arts persue Unless you suffer me to be As whimsical as you At last the vain dispute desist To Love resign the Field 'T was custom forc'd you to resist And custom bids you yield Epigram On a pert slovenly Satyrist PRithee W s don't write Satire Thou know'st nothing of the matter If thou would'st be wise and dapper Keep clean thy Face and eke thy paper Some Epigrams OF BOILEAU's Imitated IN Vain my foes have try'd a thousand ways To rob my Verses of their little praise But if the Fools would easily prevail Let P own my Works they cannot â—ail Another PIty me Sergeant I 'm undone To morrow comes my Tryal on R r comes out and you will see With the same Cannon he will roar Which mawl'd poor Shakespear heretofore And now comes thundring down on me 'T is done my fatal hour is come Not that my Muse can find her doom In any thing that he has said But yet to Answer him my friend The task would ne're be at an end Alas the Critick must be read Another AS I walk't by th' Exchange I heard a brisk Fop Disputing one day in my Bookseller's Shop That Beaumont to Burnet had never reply'd And the Case to Dick Parker was lest to be try'd Yes Sirs it was Printed I 've reason to know Cries Dick let me see 't was some 3 years ago He added beyond all dispute to remove it He 'd bring 'em an hundred fair Copies to prove it Nay quoth I coming up 't is too many you 're out I ne're heard the Book went so often about You say right Sir says he you may prove it your self Look up there 's an hundred and more on my Shelf THE Seventh Satire OF BOILEAU English'd NO more my Muse since Satire don't prevail Let 's change our Stile for once and cease to rail 'T is an ill Trade and we have often found Instead of giving we receive the wound Many a poor Poet by his Rage inflam'd Has mist his aim and seen his Writings damn'd And where perhaps he thought he rally'd best Some surly Rogue has drub'd him for the jest A tedious Panegerick coldly wrote Is bundl'd up and may at leisure rot It fears no Censures differing or unjust And has no Enemies but moth and dust But such malitious Authors are not safe Who laugh themselves and make their Readers Laugh Whom when we Read we blame yet still read on Who think that all is Lawful they have done And can't alas their merry Fits forego Tho' every grin engages them a foe A Poem soon offends if too severe For each will think he sees his Image there And he who reads it may applaud your Art Yet Curses Fears and Hates