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To a LADY very handsome, but too fond
By the Same.
RYTHEE why so fantastick and vain !
What charms can the toilet supply?
Need beauty lay traps for the eye?
Muft thy tucker be still setting right?
Because that thy teeth are so white?
Shall sovereign beauty descend
To act so ignoble a part ?
A slave to the dictates of art!
Unless thou excelleft each fair
Is not that a superfluous care?
Vain, idle attempt! to pretend
The lilly with whiteness to deck! Does the rich solitaire recommend
T'he delicate turn of thy neck ?
Can powder or jewels adorn ?
With the breath or the blush of the morni
When, embarrass'd with baubles and toys,
Thou’rt set out so enormously fine, Over-doing thy purpose destroys,
And to please thou hast too much design: Little know'st thou, how beauty beguiles,
How alluring the innocent eye; What sweetness in natural smiles,
And what charms in fimplicity lye.
Thee Nature with beauty has clad,
With genuine ornaments dress’d;
To set off what already is best :
Bid the toilet be far set apart,
That impertinent Abigail, Art.
AN ACRE O N.
Translated by the Same.
All mortals enjoy the calm blefling of reft,
". You need not be frighten'd, he answered mild,
I was mov'd with compasion; and striking a light,
I ftirr'd up my fire, and close by its side
He from wet and from cold was no sooner at ease,
Forthwith from his quiver an arrow he drew,
Away skipp'd the urchin, as brikk as a bee, And laughing, “ I wish you much joy friend, quoth he: “ My bow is undamag'd, for true went the dart; “ But you will have trouble enough with your heart.”
An Imitation of HORACE, Ode II. Book III.
Let him her envied praises tell,
And all his eloquence disclose
And still the tumult of her foes.
Him early form'd, and season'd young
Subtle oppofers soon will fear,
Like Parthians at the Roman spear.
Grim death, th' inevitable lot
Which fools and cowards strive to fly,
By him who dares for truth to die.
With purest lustre of her own
Exalted Virtue eyer shines,
Advances now and now declines.
A glorious and immortal prize,
She on her hardy fon beftows,
Tho' pain, and toil, and death oppose: