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Unrivall❜d while my longing Arms I caft
About your lovely neck and flender waste,
And you to every one but me were chaste;
I fcorn'd the lofty Perfian Monarch's ftate,
And thought my self more happy, and as great.

LYDIA.

While I enjoy'd you, and no fairer fhe
Had ftole your wandring heart away from me;
While Chloe feem'd not Lydia to out-fhine,
Nor gain'd a Conqueft that before was mine;
Not Roman Ilia more renown'd I thought,
Although a God her fweet embraces fought.
HORACE.

Now Thracian Chloe has fupply'd your place,
She charms me with her Mufick and her Face;
To fave her life, I with my own would part,
And freely give it as I gave my heart.

LYDIA.

Fair Calais now, the fweet Meffenian Boy,
Loves me, I him as equally enjoy ;
If by my dying he might longer live,
I'd give two lives, if I had two to give.
HORACE.

What if kind Venus fhould our hearts unite,
And force us to adore that Love we flight?
If Chloe with her golden locks fhould yield,
And banish'd Lydia fhould regain the Field?

LYDIA.

If fo, tho' you are cruel and unkind,
Lefs to be trufted than the Seas or Wind;
Tho' he fo kind, fo charming and fo true,
I willingly would live, would die, with you.

The III. ELEGY of the

FIRST BOOK of PROPERTIUS.

English'd by Mr. Adams.

S on the Beach fad Ariadne lay,

A while the deaf winds falfe Thefeus bore away;

As from the Rock Andromeda redeem'd,

More fweet, more fair in her first flumber feem'd;
Or as the no lefs weary Bacchanal

Surpriz'd by fleep near fome fmooth ftream do's fall;
Such feem'd to me, fo was my Cynthia lay'd,
While breathing foft repofe the lovely Maid
On her fair hand reclin'd her bending head;
When I well drunk through the too narrow Street
Dragg'd home at Mid-night my unfaithful Feet;
But as th' appear'd fo charming to my view,
Gently I preft the Bed, and near her drew;
Thinking (for so much sense I still retain’d)
The Fort of Love might by furprise be gain'd;
Yet tho' commanded by a double fire,
Both by the frames of Wine, and hot Defire;
Tho' my lewd hand would naughtily have stray'd,
And I would fain my Arms have ready made;
I durft not in the foft affault engage,
Dreading to wake her well experienc'd rage;
But fo my greedy eyes furvey'd her o'er,
The waking Argus watcht not lo more;
Sometimes I loos'd the Chaplet from my Brow,
And try'd how sweetly 'twould on Cynthia's fhow,

Sometimes corrected her disorder'd hair,
That loosely wanton'd with the sportive Air;
And when the figh'd, I credulously fear'd
Some frightful Vifion to my Love appear❜d. -
'Till the bright Moon thro' the wide Window fhone,
(The Moon that would not fuddenly be gone;)
She with her fubtile rays uncios'd her eyes,
When thus against me did her fury rise.

At length affronted by fome tawdry Jade,
Kick'd out of doors, your forc'd into my Bed;
For where is it you spend my Nights you come
Drawn off and impotent at Morning home;
I wish, base man! I wish fuch nights you had,
As you force me! unhappy me! to lead!
Sometimes I with my Needle fleep deceive,
Then with my Lute my weariness relieve;
Then do I weep, and curfe your tedious stay,
While in fome others Arms you melt away;
'Till fleep's foft wings my willing Eye-lids clofe,
Beguile my Sorrows, and my Cares compofe.

OUT OF

PETRONIUS ARBITER.

Foda eft in Coitu & brevis voluptas.

IS but a fhort, but a filthy pleasure,

Let not us then as luftful Beafts do,
Slovenly, abruptly, blindly fall to:
Left we put out Love's gentle fire,

treasure;

And he droop, and languish in impotent defire: But thus we'll lye, and thus we'll kifs,

Thus, thus improve the lasting blifs!

There

There is no labour here, no fhame,
The folid Pleafure's ftill the fame,
Never, oh, never to be done,
Where Love is ever but begun..

EPISTL E

From Mr. Otway, to Mr. Duke.

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and light defpife eyes,

much lov'd Friend, when thou art from my

Night, kinder Night's the much more welcome Gueft,
For though it bring fmall eafe, it hides at leaft;
Or if e'er flumbers and my eyes agree, [thee.
'Tis when they're crown'd with pleafing dreams of
Laft night methought(Heaven make the next as kind)
Free as firft innocence, and unconfin'd

As our firft Parents in their Eden were,

E'er yet condemn'd to eat their bread with care; We two together wander'd through a Grove, 'Twas green beneath us, and all fhade above, Mild as our Friendship, fpringing as our Love; Hundreds of chearful Birds fill'd every Tree, And fung their joyful Songs of Liberty ;

While through the gladfome Choir well pleas'd we
And of our prefent valu'd State thus talk'd ; [walk'd,
How happy are we in this fweet retreat?

Thus humbly bleft, who'd labour to be great?
Who for Preferments at a Court would wait,
Where every Gudgeon's nibbling at the bait?
What Fish of fense would on that shallow lye,
Amongst the little starving wriggling Frye,
That throng and crowd each other for a Take
Of the deceitful, painted, poifon'd Pafte;
When the wide River he behind him fees,
Where he may launch to Liberty and Eafe?
VOL. I.

E

No cares or business here difturb our hours,
While underneath these fhady, peaceful Bowers,
In cool delight and innocence we fray,

And midst a thousand Pleasures wafte the day;
Sometimes upon a River's bank we lye,

Where skimming Swallows o'er the furface fly,
Juft as the Sun, declining with his Beams,
Kiffes, and gently warms the gliding Streams;
Amidit whose current rifing Fishes play,
And rowl in wanton Liberty away.

Perhaps, hard by there grows a little Bush,
On which the Linnet, Nightingale, and Thrush,
Nightly their folemn Orgyes meeting keep,
And fing their Vefpers e'er they go to fleep:
There we two lye, between us may be's spread
Some Book, few understand, tho' many read:
Sometimes we Virgil's Sacred Leaves turn o'er,
Still wond'ring, and still finding cause for more,
How Juno's rage did good Æneas vex,
Then how he had revenge upon her Sex
In Dido's ftate, whom bravely he enjoy'd,
And quitted her as bravely too when cloy'd;
He knew the fatal danger of her Charms,
And fcorn'd to melt his virtue her Arms.
Next Nifus and Euryalus we admire,
Their gentle Friendship, and their martial Fire;
We praife their Valour 'cause yet matcht by none,
And love their Friendship, so much like our own.
But when to give our minds a Feast indeed,
Horace, best known and lov'd by thee, we read;
Who can our Transports, or our Longings tell,
To taste of pleasures, prais'd by him so well?
With thoughts of Love, and Wine, by him we're fir'd,
Two things in fweet retirement much defir'd.
A generous Bottle and a lovesome She,
Are th' only Joys in Nature, next to Thee:
To which retiring quietly at night,
If (as that only can) to add delight,

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