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Slander beside her, like a Mag-pie, chatters; With Envy, (spitting Cat) dread foe to peace; Like a curs'd Cur; Malice before her clatters, 35 And vexing ev'ry wight, tears clothes and all to tata
V. Her dugs were markd by ev'ry Collier's hånd; Her mouth was black as bull-dogs at the stall: She scratched; bit, and spar'd ne lace ne band, And bitch and rogue her answer was to all; 40 Nay, e’en the parts of shame by name would call : Yea, when the passed by or láne or nook, Would greet the man who turn'd him to the Wall, And by his hand obscene the porter took, Nor ever did alkanee like modest Virgin look: 45
VI. Such place hath Deptford, navy-building town, Woolwich and Wapping, smelling strong of pitch; Such Lambeth, envy of each band and gown, And Twick’nam such, which fairer scenes enrich, Grots, statues, urns, and Jown's Dog and Etch,
Ne village is without, on either side,
the silver Thames, or all adown; Ne Richmond's self, from whose tall front are
ey'd Vales, spires, meandring streams, and Windsor's
W À LLE R.
Of a Lady finging to her LUTE.
AIR Charmer, cease, nor make FA
voice's prize A heart resign'd the conquest of your eyes : Well might, alas ! that threatned vessel fail, Which winds and lightning both at once affail. We were too blest with these inchanting lays, 5 Which must be heav'nly when an Angel plays: But killing charms your lover's death contrive, Lest heav'nly music should be heard alive. Orpheus could charm the trees, but thus a tree, Taught by your hand, can charm no less than he: A poet made the silent wood pursue, This vocal wood had drawn the Poet too,
On a fan of the Author's design,
in which was painted the story of CEPHALUS and PROCRIS, with the Motto, AURA VENI.
OME, gentle Air! th’ Æolian shepherd said,
While Procris panted in the secret shade; Come, gentle Air, the fairer Delia cries; While at her feet her swain expiring lies. Lo the glad gales o'er all her beauties stray, Breathe on her lips, and in her bosom play! In Delia's hand this toy is fatal found, Nor could that fabled dart morę surely wound: Both gifts destructive to the givers prove; Alike both lovers fall by those they love. Yet guiltless too this bright destroyer lives, At random wounds, nor knows the wound the
gives : She views the story with attentive eyes, And pities Procris, while her lover dies.
AIN would my Muse the flow'ry Treasures