Were all the curtains drawn, you'd find Minerva, naked from above Yet this was the whom poets name Gave amorous audiences all the day; Thus twenty cheerful winters past, She's yet immortaliz'd for chafte. Smile, Myra, then; reward my flame, THE DISCOVERY. ΤΟ THE COUNTESS OF N WITH Myra's charms, and my extreme defpair, Long has my Mufe amaz'd the reader's ear, My friends with pity heard the mournful found, And all enquir'd who gave the fatal wound; Th' aftonifh'd world beheld an endless flame, Ne'er to be quench'd, and knew not whence it came: So fcatter'd fire from burning Ætna flies, Yet none can tell from whence thofe flames arife. My timorous tongue, ftill trembling to confess, Survey your felf, and then forgive your flave, } For For Venus, Cytherea was invok'd, Altars for Pallas, to Athena fmok'd: Such names were theirs; and thou the most divine, Moft lov'd of heavenly beuties, Myra 's thine. MYRA AT A REVIE W. L ET meaner beauties conquer fingly ftill, But haughty Myra will by thousands kill, And with one glance commands ten thousand lives: TO MYR A. 1. O calm and fo ferene but now, What means this change on Myra's brow? Her aguifh love now glows and burns, Then chills and thakes, and the cold fit returns. II. Mock'd with deluding locks and finiles, When on her pity I depend, My aery hope the foon beguiles, And laughs, to fee my torments never end. III. So up the steepy hill with pain The weighty ftone is roll'd in vain, Which having touch'd the top, recoils, And leaves the labourer to renew his toils. TO MYR A. то Thoughtful nights, and restless waking, O the pains that we endure ! Broken faith, unkind forfaking, Ever doubting, never fure. From fuch painful ways of living, TO M Y R A. SON PRepar'd to rail, refolv'd to part, G. When I approach the perjur'd maid, What is it awes my timorous heart? Why is my tongue afraid ? With the leaft glance a little kind, Such wondrous power have Myra's charms, When gazing on that form divine, TO M YRA. THE ENCHANTMENT. In Imitation of the PHARMACEUTRIA OF THEOCRITUS. MIX, she IX, mix the philtres---Quick---fhe flies, the flies, Deaf to my call, regardless of my cries. Are vows fo vain? Could oaths fo feeble prove? At whofe approach fierce wolves affrighted fly, Begin, begin, the mystic spells prepare ; As |