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TO A

L A D Y

Sitting before her Glass.

<•''•.

SO smooth;and clear the Fountain was
In which his Face Narcissus spy'd,
When gazing in that liquid Glass, ,

He for himself despair'd and dy'd:
Nor, Chloris, can you safer see
Your own Perfections here than he.

. II. ,
The Lark before the Mirror plays,

Which some deceitful Swain has set j OT • *

Pleas'd Pleas'd with her self she fondly stays

To die deluded in the Net:
Love may such Frauds for you prepare,
Your self the Captive, and the Snare.

Hi. ":\.

But, Chlorisi whilst you there review .

Those Graces op'ning in their Bloom, Think how Disease and Age pursue,

Your riper Glories to consume: Then sighing you will wish your Glass .Cou'd shew to Chloris what she was.

IV.

Let Pride no more give Nature Law,
But free the Youth your Power enslaves:

Her Form, like yours, bright Cynthia saw
Reflected on the Chrystal Waves,

Yet priz'd not all her Charms above

The Pleasure of Endymiori's Love.

N ''^.No

. V.

No longer let your Glass supply
Too just an Emblem of your Breast;

Where oft to my deluded Eye
Love's Image has appear'd imprest;

But play'd so lightly on your Mind,

It left no lasting Print behind.

[graphic]

O N T H E

BIRTH-DAY

OF

Mr. Robert Trefusis;

BEING

Three Tears Old, March 22, 17£

By Mr. BROOME.

[Eyes?

WH Y, lovely Babe, does slumber seal your See, fair Aurora blushes in the Skies! The Sun, which gave you Birth, in bright Arras Be gins his Course, and ushers in the Day.

N * Calmly Calmly Serene and Glorious to the View

He marches forth, and strives to look like you.

[Span,

Fair Beauty's Bud! when Time shall stretch thy Confirm thy Charms, and ripen thee to Man, How shall each Swain, each beauteous Nymph

, [complain?

For Love each Nymph, for Envy ev'ry Swain.
"What matchless Charms shall thy full Noon adorn,
When so admir'd, so glorious is thy Morn?
So glorious is thy Morn of Life begun,
That all to thee with Admiration run,
Turn Persians y and adore the rising Sun.
So Fair thou art, that if great Cupid be
A Child, as Poets fay, sure thou art he.
Fair Venus would mistake thee for her own*
Did not thy.-Eyes proclaim thee not her Son.
There all the Lightnings of thy Mothers shine,
Their radiant Glory and their Sweetness join,

[thine.,

To sliew their fatal Pow'r, and all their Charms,in

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