II.

ADVICE TO A YOUNG LADY

IF YOU, by sordid views then misled,

Prefer old Gripus to your Bed,

You'll bitterly lament it;

For Twenty ne'er did Fifty wed

But both did soon repent it.

His peevishness and Thrift of Gain,

Would of each China Cup complain;

Each Ribbon, Patch, and Pinner;

And Cat and Dog must ne'er again

Eat from your Plate at Dinner.

Alarmed by groundless Jealousy

He'd to each random word apply

Some base Interpretation;

Each simple Smile, or casual Sigh,

Would be an Assignation.

Or tho' you're from these Torments free

Indulged all Day in Visits, Tea,

And all that you petition;

Ev'n then, alas! all Night you'd be

But in a poor Condition.

For then he'd all Endearments shun,

And vainly boast what feats were done,

When he was Young and Mighty,

But now, alas! those Days are gone,

And so my Dear, Good Night t'ye.

But if by inclination led,

A Youth of equal Bloom you wed,

No Cares by Day will tease ye,

At Night such Joys will bless your Bed,

As cannot fail to please ye.

While therefore you to chuse are free,

Chuse One whose Years with yours agree,

By Love alone directed;

Assur'd that happy Days may be

From happy Nights expected.

III.

OH, FORBEAR!

OH, forbear to bid me slight her;

Soul and Senses, take her part:

Could my Death itself delight her,

Life would leap to leave my Heart.

Strong, tho' soft, a Lover's Charm;

Charm'd with Woe, and pleas'd with Pain.

Tho' the tender Flame were dying,

Love would light it at her Eyes;

Or, her tuneful Voice applying,

Through my Ear, my Soul surprise.

Deaf, I see the Fate I shun!

Blind, I hear&emdash;and am undone.

IV.

THE CHARMING SYLVIA.

THE Nymph that undoes me, is fair and

unkind;

No less than a wonder by Nature designed;

She's the Grief of my Heart, the Joy of my

Eye,

And the Cause of a Flame that never can die.

Her mouth, from whence Wit still obligingly

flows,

Has the beautiful Blush, and the smell of the

Rose;

Love and Destiny both attend on her Will,

She wounds with a Look, with a Frown she

can kill.

The desperate Lover can hope no redress,

Where Beauty and Rigor are both in Excess:

In Sylvia they meet, so unhappy am I,

Who sees her must love, and to love her

must Die.

V.

LOTHARIO.

PAULlNA.

VAINLY now ye strive to charm me,

All the Sweets of blooming May;

How should empty Sunshine warm me,

While Lothario keeps away ?

How should empty Sunshine warm me,

When Lothario keeps away.

IGNATIUS.

Go, ye warbling Birds, go leave me;

Shade, ye Clouds, the smiling Sky:

Sweeter Notes her Voice can give me;

Softer Sunshine fills her Eye.

Sweeter Notes her Voice can give me

While Lothario keeps away.

VI.

THE PLEASURES OF COUNTRY.

N0, no, 'tis in vain, in this turbulent Town

To expect either Pleasure or Rest:

To Hurry and Nonsense still tying us down;

'Tis an over-grown Prison at best.

'Tis an over-grown Prison at best.

From hence to the Country escaping away,

Leave the Crowd and the Bustle behind;

Then you'll see liberal Nature display

A thousand Delights to Mankind.

The change of the Seasons, the Sports of the

Fields,

The sweetly diversifi'd Scene;

The Groves, and the Gardens! and every

thing yield

A Cheerfulness ever serene.

Here, here, from Ambition and Avarice free,

My Days may I quietly spend!

Whilst the Cits and the Courtiers, unenvy'd

by me,

May gather up Wealth without end.

No, I thank 'em, I would not, to add to my

store,

My Peace and my Freedom resign:

For who, for the sake of possessing the Ore,

Would be sentenc'd to work in the Mine ?

Would be sentenc'd to work in the Mine.

VII.

THE CONSTANT SWAIN AND VIRTUOUS

MAID .

SOON as the Day begins to wane,

Straight to the well known Door I haste

And rapping there am forced to stay;

While Molly hides her Work with Care.

Adjusts her Tucker and her Hair,

And nirnble Becky scours away.

Ent'ring, I see in Molly's Eyes

A sudden smiling joy arise,

As quickly check'd by Virgin Shame:

She drops a Curt'sey, steals a glance,

Receives a Kiss, one step advance;

If such I love, am I to blame?

I sit and talk of twenty Things,

Of South-Sea Stock, or Death of Kings,

Why only Yes, or No, crys Molly:

As cautious she conceals her Thoughts

As others do their private Faults,

In her Prudence or her Folly.

Parting, I kiss her Lips and Cheek,

I hang about her snowy Neck.

And say, Farewell, my dearest Molly:

Yet still I hang, and still I kiss;

Ye learned Sages, say Is this

In me th' Effect of Love or Folly?

No: Both by sober Reason move,

She Prudence shews, and I true Love:

No charge of Folly can be laid:

Then, 'till the Marriage-Rites proclaim'd

Shall joyn our hands, let us be nam'd

The Constant Swain and Virtuous Maid.