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Yet others yield; and Love o'ercomes the best ;
But why should I not shine above the rest?
Fair Leda's Story seems at first to be
A fit Example ready form'd for me.
But she was cozen'd by a borrow'd Shape,
And under harmless Feathers felt a Rape.
If I should yield, what Reason could I use ?
By what Mistake the loving Crime excuse ?
Her Fault was in her powerful Lover lost ;
But of what Jupiter have I to boast ?
Tho' you to Heroes and to Kings fucceed,
Our Famous Race does no Addition need;
And great Alliances but useless prove
To one that comes herself from mighty Jove.
Go then, and boaft in fome less haughty Place
Your Phrygian Blood, and Priam's ancient Race;
Which I would fhew I valu'd, if I durft ;
You are the fifth from Jove, but I the first.
The Crown of Troy is pow'rful, I confefs;
But I have reason to think ours no less.
Your Letter, fill'd with Promises of all
That Men can good, and Women pleasant call,
Gives Expectation fuch an ample Field,
As wou'd move Goddeffes themselves to yield.
But if I e'er offend great funo's Laws,
Your felf fhall be the dear, the only Caufe:
Either my Honour I'll to Death maintain,
Or follow you, without mean Thoughts of Gain.
Not that fo fair a Prefent I despise;

We like the Gift, when we the Giver prize.

But 'tis your Love moves me, which made you take
Such Pains, and run fuch Hazards for my Sake.
I have perceiv'd (tho' I diffembled too)
A thousand things that Love has made you do.

Your

Your eager Eyes would almost dazzle mine,
In which (wild Man) your wanton Thoughts wou'd fhinea
Sometimes you'd figh, fometimes diforder'd ftand,
And with unusual Ardor press my Hand;
Contrive just after me to take the Glass,
Nor wou'd you let the leaft Occasion pass:
When oft I fear'd, I did not mind alone,
And blushing sate for Things which you have done:
Then murmur'd to my felf, He'll for my Sake
Do any thing; I hope 'twas no Mistake.
Oft have I read within this pleafing Grove,
Under my Name, thofe charming Words, I Love.
I, frowning, feem'd not to believe

your Flame ;
But now, alas, am come to write the fame.
If I were capable to do amifs,

I could not but be fenfible of this.

For oh! your Face has such peculiar Charms,
That who can hold from flying to your Arms!
But what I ne'er can have without Offence,
May some bleft Maid poffefs with Innocence.
Pleasure may tempt, but Virtue more should move;
O learn of me to want the Thing you love.
What you defire is fought by all Mankind :
As you have Eyes, fo others are not Blind.
Like you they see, like you my Charms adore;
They wish not less, but you dare venture more.
Oh! had you then upon our Coasts been brought,
My Virgin-Love when thousand Rivals fought,
You had I feen, you should have had my Voice;,
Nor cou'd my Husband justly blame my Choice.
For both our Hopes, alas! you come too late ;
Another now is Master of my Fate.
More to my Wish I cou'd have liv'd with you,
And yet my prefent Lot can undergo.

Ceafe

Ceafe to follicit a weak Woman's Will,

And urge not her you love to fo much Ill.
But let me live contented as I

may,

And make not my unspotted Fame your Prey.
Some Right you claim, fince naked to your Eyes
Three Goddeffes difputed Beauty's Prize:
One offer'd Valour, t'other Crowns; but she
Obtain'd her Caufe, who fmiling promis'd me.
But first I am not of Belief fo light,

To think fuch Nymphs wou'd fhew you fuch a Sight:
Yet granting this, the other Part is feign'd;
A Bribe fo mean your Sentence had not gain'd.
With partial Eyes I fhou'd my self regard,
To think that Venus made me her Reward:
I humbly am content with human Praise ;
A Goddess's Applause wou'd Envy raise.
But be it as you fay; for, 'tis confest,
The Men, who flatter higheft, please us beft.
That I fufpect it, ought not to displease ;
For Miracles are not believ'd with Eafe.
One Joy I have, that I had Venus' Voice;
A greater yet, that you confirm'd her Choice;
That proffer'd Laurels, promis'd Sovereignty,
funo and Pallas you contemn'd for me.
Am I your Empire then, and your Renown?
What Heart of Rock, but muft by this be won?
And yet bear Witness, O you Pow'rs above,
How rude I am in all the Arts of Love!
My Hand is yet untaught to write to Men:
'This is th' Effay of my unpractis'd Pen.
Happy thofe Nymphs, whom Ufe has perfect made!
I think all Crime, and tremble at a Shade.
E'en while I write, my fearful confcious Eyes
Look often back, mifdoubting a Surprise.

For

For now the Rumour spreads among the Croud,
At Court in Whispers, but in Town aloud :
Diffemble you, whate'er you hear 'em fay:
To leave off loving were your better Way ;
Yet if you will diffemble it, you may.
Love fecretly the Abfence of my Lord
More Freedom gives, but does not all afford
Long is his Journey, long will be his Stay;
Call'd by Affairs of Confequence away.
To go, or not, when unrefolv'd he stood,
I bid him make what swift Return he cou'd :
Then kiffing me, he said, I recommend
All to thy Care, but most my Trojan Friend.
I fmil'd at what he innocently faid,
And only anfwer'd, You fhall be obey'd.
Propitious Winds have born him far from hence,
But let not this fecure your Confidence.
Absent he is, yet absent he commands:
You know the Proverb, Princes have long Hands.
My Fame's my Burden; for the more I'm prais'd,
A jufter Ground of Jealoufy is rais'd.

Were I less fair, I might have been more bleft:
Great Beauty through great Danger is poffeft.
To leave me here his Venture was not hard,
Because he thought my Virtue was my Guard.
He fear'd my Face, but trufted to my Life,
The Beauty doubted, but believ'd the Wife.
You bid me use th' Occafion while I can,
Put in our Hands by the good eafy Man.

I wou'd, and yet I doubt, 'twixt Love and Fear;
One draws me from you, and one brings me near.'
Our Flames are mutual, and my Husband's gone :
The Nights are long; I fear to lie alone.

}

One

One House contains us, and weak Walls divide,
And you're too preffing to be long deny'd.
Let me not live, but ev'ry Thing confpires

To join our Loves, and yet my Fear retires.
You court with Words, when you shou'd Force employ:
A Rape is requifite to fhame-fac'd Joy.
Indulgent to the Wrongs which we receive,

Our Sex can fuffer what we dare not give.
What have I said ? for both of us 'twere beft,
Our kindling Fire if each of us fuppreft.
The Faith of Strangers is too prone to change,
And, like themselves, their wand'ring Paffions range.
Hypfipile, and the fond Minonian Maid,

Were both by trufting of their Guests betray'd.
How can I doubt that other Men deceive,
When you your self did fair OEnone leave?
But left I fhou'd upbraid your Treachery,
You make a Merit of that Crime to me.
Yet grant you were to faithful Love inclin❜d,
Your weary Trojans wait but for a Wind.
Should you prevail; while I affign the Night,
Your Sails are hoifted, and you take your Flight:
Some bawling Mariner our Love destroys,
And breaks afunder our unfinish'd Joys.
But I with you may leave the Spartan Port,
To view the Trojan Wealth and Priam's Court:
Shown while I fee, I fhall expose my Fame,
And fill a foreign Country with my Shame.
In Afia what Reception fhall I find?
And what Difhonour leave in Greece behind?
What will your Brothers, Priam, Hecuba,
And what will all your modest Matrons fay ?
E'en you, when on this Action you reflect,
My future Conduct jusftly may suspect;

And

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