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(Far hence, ye proud Hexameters, remove ;) E 'My Verse is pac'd and trammeld into Love.

With Myrtle Wreaths my thoughtful Brows inclose,
While in unequal Verse I sing my Woes.

From Ovid's AMOUR S.

Book i. Eleg. 4.
To his Mistress, whose Husband is invited to a Feast

with them. The Poet inftru&ts ber bow to behave
herself in his Company.

OUR Husband will be with us at the Treat;

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And am poor I a Guest invited there,
Only to see, while he may touch the Fair ?
To see

you kiss and hug your nauseous Lord,
While his leud hand descends below the Board.?
Now wonder not that Hippodamia's Charms,
At such a sight, the Centaurs urg'd to Arms;
That in a rage they threw their Cups aside,
Affaild the Bride-groom, and wou'd force the Bride.
I am not half a Horse, (I wou'd I were)
Yet hardly can from you my hands forbear.
Take then my Counsel ; which, observ'd, may be
Of some importance both to you and me.
Be sure to come before your Man be there;
Therë's nothing can be done ; but come howe'er.
Sit next him (that belongs to decency)
But tread upon my Foot in passing by.
Read in my Looks what silently they speak,
And Nily, with your Eyes, your Answer make,

VOL. II.

My

My lifted Eye-brow shall declare my pain ;
My Right-hand to his fellow shall complain ;
And on the back a Letter shall design ;
Besides a Note that shall be writ in Wine,
Whene'er you think upon our last Embrace,
With your Fore-finger gently touch your Face.
If any Word of mine offend my Dear,
Pull, with your hand, the velvet of

your

Ear.
If you are pleas’d with what I do or say,
Handle your Rings, or with your fingers play.
As Suppliants use at Altars, hold the board,
Whene'er you with the Devil may take your Lord.
When he fills for you, never touch the Cup,
But bid th' officious Cuckold drink it up.
The Waiter on those Services employ ;
Drink
you, ,

and I will snatch it from the Boy ;
Watching the part where your sweet Mouth hath been,
And thence with eager Lips will suck it in.
If he, with clownish Manners, thinks it fit
To taite, and offer you the nafty bit,
Reject his greafy Kindness, and restore
Th? unfav'ry Morsel he had chew'd before.
Nor let his Arms embrace your Neck, nor reft
Your tender Cheek upon his hairy Breaft.
Let not his Hand within your Bosom stray,
And rudely with your pretty Bubbies play.
Butabove all, let him no Kiss receive ;
That's an Offence I never can forgive.
Do not, O do not that sweet Mouth resign,
Left I rise up in Arms, and cry, 'tis mine.
I shall thrust in betwixt, and void of fear
The manifest Adult'rer will appear.
These things are plain to Sight; but more I doubt
What you conceal beneath your Petticoat.

Take

Take not his Leg between your tender Thighs,
Nor, with your Hand, provoke my Foe to rise.
How many Love-inventions I deplore,
Which I my self have practis'd all before ?
How oft have I been forc'd the Robe to lift
In Company; to make a homely fhift
For a bare Bout, ill huddled o'er in haste,
While o'er my side the Fair her Mantle caft.
You to your Husband shall not be so kind ;
But, left you shou’d, your Mantle leave behind.
Encourage him to tope ; but kiss him him not,
Nor mix one drop of Water in his Pot.
If he be fuddled well, and snores apace,
Then we may take Advice from time and place.
When all depart, when Compliments are loud,
Be sure to mix among the thickest Crowd:
There I will be, and there we cannot miss,
Perhaps to grubbie, or at least to kiss.
Alas ! what length of Labour I employ,
Just to secure a short and transient Joy !
For Night must part us ; and when Night is come,
Tuck'd underneath his Arm he leads you

home.
He locks you in ; I follow to the Door,
His Fortune envy, and my own deplore.
He kisses you, he more than kisses too ;
Th’ outrageous Cuckold thinks it all his due.
But add not to his Joy by your Consent,
And let it not be giv'n, but only lent.
Return no Kiss, nor move in any
Make it a dull and a malignant sport.
Had I my wish, he should no Pleasure take,
But llubber o'er

your
Bufiness for

my

fake. And whate'er Fortune shall this night befal, Coax me to-morrow, by forfwearing all.

fort;

The first Book of OVID's ART of LOVE.

N Crepid's School whoe'er wou'd take Degree,

Seamen with failing Arts their Veffels move;
Art guides the Chariot ; Art instructs to Love.
Of Ships and Chariots others know the Ruie ;
But I am Miaster in Love's mighty School.
Cupid indeed is obftinate and wild,
Altubborn God; but yet the God's a Child :
Easy to govern in his tender Age,
Like fierce Achilles in his Pupillage:
That Hero, born for Conquest, trembling ftood
Before the Centaur, and receiv'd the Rod.
As Chiron mollify'd his cruel Mind
With Art, and taught his warlike Hands to wind
"The filver Strings of his melodious Lyre:
So Love's fair Goddess does my Soul inspire,

To teach her softer Arts; to sooth the Mind,
And smooth the rugged Breasts of Human Kind.

Yet Cupid and Achilles, each with Scorn And Rage were fill'd; and both were Goddess-bora.

The Bull, reclaim'd and yok'd, the Burden draws: The Horse receives the Bit within his Jaws; And stubborn Love shall bend beneath my Sway, Tho' struggling oft he trives to disobey. He shakes his Torch, he wounds me with his Darts ; But vain his Force, and yainer are his Arts. The more he burns my Soul, or wounds my Sight, The more he teaches to revenge the Spite.

I

}

I boast no Aid the Delpbian God affords,
Nor Auspice from the Flight of chattering Birds ;
Nor Clio, nor her Sisters have I seen ;
As Hefiod saw them on the shady Green :
Experience makes my Work; a Truth fo try'd
You may believe ; and Venus be my Guide,

Far hence, ye Vestals, be, who bind your Hair ;
And Wives, who Gowns below your Ancles wear.
I fing the Brothels loose and unconfin'd,
Th’unpunishable Pleasures of the Kind ;
Which all alike, for Love, or Money, find.

You, who in Cupid's Rolls inscribe your Name,
First seek an Object worthy of your Flame ;
Then frive, with Art, your Lady's Mind to gain :
And, laft, provide your Love may long remain.
On these three Precepts all my Work shall move :
These are the Rules and Principles of Love.

Before your Youth with Marriage is opprest,
Make choice of one who suits your Humour best:
And such a Damsel drops not from the sky;
She must be fought for with a curious Eye.

The wary Angler, in the winding Brook,
Knows what the Fish, and where to bait his Hook.
The Fowler and the Huntsman know by Name
The certain Haunts and Harbour of their Game.
So must the Lover beat the likliest Grounds ;
Th' Assembly where his Quarry most abounds.
Nor shall my Novice wander far astray;
These Rules Shall put him in the ready Way:
Thou shalt not fail around the Continent,
As far as Perseus, or as Paris went:
For Rome alone affords thee such a Store,
As all the World can hardly sew thee more.

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