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Who, alas, have found too well;

What a power does in them dwell;
I, alas, the danger know,

I, alas, have felt the Blow;

Mourn, as loft, my former Days,

That did not fing of Celia's praife;
And those few that are behind

I fhall blefs'd or wretched find,
Only just as she is kind.

With her tempting Eyes begin, Eyes that might draw Angels in Toa fecond fweeter fin.

Oh, those wanton rowling Eyes!

At each glance a Lover dies:

Make them bright, yet make them willing,
Let them look both kind and killing.

Next, draw her Forhead, then her Nofe,

And Lips juft opening, which disclose

Teeth

Teeth fo white, and Breath so sweet,

So much Beauty, fo much Wit,

To our very Soul they ftrike,

All our Senfes pleas'd alike;

But fo pure a white and red

Never never can be said;

What are words in fuch a cafe?
What is paint to fuch a Face?
How fhould either Art avail us?
Fancy here it felf will fail us..

In her Looks, and in her Mien
Such a graceful Air is seen,
That if you with all your Art
Can but reach the smallest part,
Next to her, the Matchless She,
We fhall wonder moft at Thee.

Then, her Neck, and Breafts, and Hair,

And her...but my Chaming Fair

Does in a thousand things excel,

Which I must not, dare not tell.

A Lovely Venus drawn by Thee;
Oh how fair She does appear!
Touch it only here and there;
Make her yet seem more Divine,
Your Venus then may look like mine,
Whose bright form, if once you faw,
You by her would Venus draw.

ΤΟ

As from a Nymph fo full of Charms,

So much sweetness in her Face,

In her Motions such a Grace.

In her kind inviting Eyes

Such a foft enchantment lies,

That we please our felves too soon,

And are with vain hopes undone.

After

After all her softness, we

Are but Slaves, while fhe is free?
Free, alas, from all defire,

Except to fet the World on fire.

Thou, fair Diffembler, doft but thus

Deceive thy felf as well as us;
Like Ambitious Monarchs, thou

Would'st rather force Mankind to bow.
And venture o'er the World to roam,

Than govern with content at home,

But trust me, Celia, truft me when
Apollo's felf inspires my Pen,

One hour of Love's Delights outweighs

Whole Years of Univerfal Praise,

And one Adorer kindly us'd,

Is of more ufe, than Crowds refus'd.

For