The Cyprian queen with cruel joy Beholds her rival's charms o'erthrown, Nor doubts, like mortal Fair, t' employ From out the fpoils of ev'ry grace The goddefs picks fome glorious prize, Tranfplants the rofes from her face, And arms young CUPIDS from her eyes. NOW DEATH (ah veil the mournful scene!) Had kinder FATE not ftept between, And turn'd afide th' uplifted dart. What frenzy bids thy hand effay, He cries, to wound thy fureft friend, Whofe beauties to thy realms each day Such num'rous crowds of victims send? Are not her eyes, where-e'er they aim, Or who, that once has felt their flame, DEATH, DEATH, thus reprov'd, his hand restrains, The cruel beauty lives, and reigns, That thousands may adore, and die. WRITTEN IN MR. LOCKE's ESSAY ON HUMAN L UNDERSTANDING. ONG had the mind of man with curious art Search'd nature's wond'rous plan thro' ev'ry part, Meafur'd each tract of ocean, earth, and sky, So beauteous EVE a while in Eden stray'd, And all her great Creator's works furvey'd; By fun, and moon, fhe knew to mark the hour, She knew the genus of each plant and flow'r; She knew, when sporting on the verdant lawn, WRITTEN IN A LADY'S VOLUME OF TRAGEDIES. INCE thou, relentless maid, canft daily hear SIN Thy flave's complaints without one figh or tear, Why beats thy breast, or thy bright eyes o'erflow At these imaginary scenes of woe? Rather teach thefe to weep and that to heave, CUPID RELIEVED. As S once young CUPID went aftray The little god I found; I took his bow and fhafts away, And faft his pinions bound. At CHLOE's feet my spoils I caft, She faw his godship fetter'd fast, But ah! that smile fuch fresh supplies I'm forc'd again to yield my prize, THE THE WAY TO BE WISE. IMITATED FROM LA FONTAIN E. OOR JENNY, am'rous, young, and gay, Having by man been led aftray, To nunn'ry dark retir❜d; There liv'd, and look'd fo like a maid, So feldom eat, so often pray'd, The lady ABBESS oft would cry, If any fifter trod awry, Or prov'd an idle flattern; See wife and pious Mrs. JANE, A life fo ftrict, fo grave a mien, A pert young flut at length replies, 'Tis that has made her fuch; And we, poor fouls, no doubt shou'd be As pious, and as wife, as fhe, VOL. I. If we had seen as much. M LUSUS |