He break my darts! or hurt my power!
He, Leda's fwan, and Danaë's fhower!
Go, bid him his wife tongue reftrain,
And mind his thunder, and his rain.—
My darts! O certainly I'll give 'em :
From Cloe's eyes he fhall receive 'em.
There's one, the best in all my quiver,
Twang! through his very heart and liver;
He then fhall pine, and figh, and rave:
Good Lord! what buftle fhall we have!
Neptune muft ftraight be fent to fea,
And Flora fummon'd twice a day :
One must find fhells, and t' other flowers,
For cooling grots, and fragrant bowers,
That Cloe may be ferv'd in ftate,
The Hours must at her toilet wait :
Whilst all the reasoning fools below
Wonder their watches go too flow.
Lybs muft fly fouth, and Eurus east,
For jewels for her hair and breast.
No matter, though their cruel hafte
Sink cities, and lay forefts wafte.
No matter, though this fleet be loft;
Or that lie wind-bound on the coaft.
What whispering in my mother's ear!
What care, that Juno fhould not hear!
What work among you scholar gods!
Phoebus muft write him amorous odes.
And thou, poor coufin, muft compofe
His letters in fubmiffive profe:
Whilft haughty Cloe, to sustain
The honour of my myftic reign,
Shall all his gifts and vows difdain,
And laugh at your old bully's pain.
Dear couz, faid Hermes in a fright,
For Heaven's fake! keep your darts good night.
RESOLVE me, Cloe, what is this:
Or forfeit me one precious kiss.
'Tis the first offspring of the Graces;
Bears different forms in different places;
Acknowledg'd fine, where'er beheld;
Yet fancied finer, when conceal'd.
'Twas Flora's wealth, and Circe's charm;
Pandora's box of good and harm:
'Twas Mars's wish, Endymion's dream ;
Apelles' draught, and Ovid's theme.
This guided Thefeus through the maze;
And fent him home with life and praise :
But this undid the Phrygian boy;
And blew the flames that ruin'd Troy.
This fhew'd great kindness to old Greece,
And help'd rich Jafon to the fleece.
This through the Eaft juft vengeance hurl'd,
And loft poor Anthony the world.
Injur'd, though Lucrece found her doom,
This banish'd tyranny from Rome.
Appeas'd, though Lais gain'd her hire;
This fet Persepolis on fire.
For this Alcides learn'd to spin:
His club laid down, and lion's skin.
For this Apollo deign'd to keep,
With fervile care, a mortal's sheep.
For this the father of the Gods,
Content to leave his high abodes,
In borrow'd figures loosely ran,
Europa's bull, and Leda's fwan :
For this he reaffumes the nod
(While Semele commands the God);
Launches the bolt, and shakes the poles;
Though Momus laughs, and Juno fcolds.
Here liftening Cloe fmil'd, and faid;
Your riddle is not hard to read:
I guess it-Fair-one, if you do,
Need I, alas! the theme pursue?
For this, thou seest, for this I leave
Whate'er the world thinks wife or grave,
Ambition, bufinefs, friendship, news,
My useful books, and ferious Mufe.
For this, I willingly decline
The mirth of feafts, and joys of wine;
And choose to fit and talk with thee
(As thy great orders may decree)
Of cocks and bulls, and flutes and fiddles,
Of idle tales and foolish riddles.
WHAT Nymph fhould I admire, or truft,
But Cloe beauteous, Cloe juft?
What Nymph fhould I defire to fee,
But her who leaves the plain for me?
To whom should I compofe the lay,
But her who liftens when I play?
To whom in fong repeat my cares,
But her who in my forrow fhares?
For whom should I the garland make,
But her who joys the gift to take,
And boasts she wears it for my fake?
In love am I not fully bleft?
Lifetta, pr'ythee tell the reft..
LISETTA'S REPLY.
SURE Cloe juft, and Cloe fair,
Deferves to be your only care:
But, when you and fhe to-day
Far into the wood did stray,
And I happen'd to pass by;
Which way did you caft your eye?
But, when your cares to her you fing,
Yet dare not tell her whence they spring;
Does it not mo
more afflict your heart,
That in thofe cares the bears a part?
When you the flowers for Cloe twine,
Why do you to her garland join
The meaneft bud that falls from mine?
Simpleft of fwains! the world may fee,
Whom Cloe loves, and who loves me.
HE pride of every grove I chose, The violet fweet and lily fair, The dappled pink, and blushing rofe, To deck my charming Cloe's hair.
At morn the nymph vouchsaf'd to place
Upon her brow the various wreath ;
The flowers lefs blooming than her face,
The scent lefs fragrant than her breath.
III.
The flowers fhe wore along the day :
And every nymph and fhepherd faid,
That in her hair they look'd more gay
Than glowing in their native bed.
IV.
Undreft at evening, when the found
Their odours loft, their colours past; She chang'd her look, and on the ground Her garland and her eye she cast.
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