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Gives Expectation such an ample Field,

As would move Goddeffes themselves to yield.
But if I e'er offend great JUNO's Laws,

Your self shall be the dear, the only Cause;
Either

my Honour I'll to Death maintain,

Or follow you without mean Thoughts of Gain.
Not that so fair a Present 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 fake.
I have perceiv'd (tho' I diffembled too)

A thousand things that Love has made you do :
Your eager Eyes would almost dazle mine,

In which (wild Man) your wanton Thoughts would fhine.

Sometimes you'd figh, fometimes diforder'd ftand,

And with unusual Ardour prefs my Hand;
Contrive juft after me to take the Glass,

Nor would you let the least Occafion pass,

Which oft I fear'd I did not mind alone,

And blushing fate for things which you have done :
Then murmur'd to myfelf, He'll for my fake
Do any thing; I hope 'twas no Miftake.

Oft have I read within this pleasant Grove,
Under my Name, those 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 fuch 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 fhould 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 fee, like you my Charms adore,
They wish not lefs, but you dare venture more.

Oh!

Oh! had you then upon our Coasts been brought,
My Virgin Love when thousand Rivals fought,
You had I feen, you fhould 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 Mafter of
my Fate;

More to my Wish I cou'd have liv'd with you,

And yet my prefent Lot can undergo.

Ceafe to follicit a weak Woman's Will,

And urge not her you love, to fo much III:
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 fhe
Obtain'd her Cause who smiling 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 so mean, your Sentence had not gain'd.

With partial Eyes I should my felf regard,

To think that VENUS made me her Reward:

I humbly am content with human Praise;
A Goddefs's Applaufe wou'd Envy raise:
But be it as you fay, for 'tis confest,

The Men, who flatter highest, please us beft:
That I fufpect it, ought not to displease ;
For Miracles are not believ'd with ease.
One Joy I have, that I had VENUS' Voice;
A greater yet, that you confirm'd her Choice;
That proffer'd Laurels, promis'd Sov'reignty,

UNO and PALLAS you contemn'd for me.

Ju

Am I your Empire then, and your Renown?

What Heart of Rock but must 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.

Ev'n while I write, my fearful conscious Eyes
Look often back, mifdoubting a Surprize.
For now the Rumor 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 fwift return he cou'd:
Then kifling me, he faid, I recommend
All to thy Care, but moft my Trojan Friend.
I fmil'd at what he innocently said,

And only answer'd, You fhall be obey'd.

Propitious Winds have born him far from hence,
But let not this fecure your Confidence.

VOL. I.

H

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