"There is a fort of negligence, "Which some efteem as excellence, "Your art with so much art to hide, "That nothing of it be defcried; "To make your carelefs treffes flow "With so much air, that none should know "Whether they had been comb'd or no. "But, in this so neglected hair, "Many a heart has found its fnare. "Nature indeed has kindly fent "Us many things; more we invent: "Little enough, as I may say, "To keep our beauty from decay. "As leaves that with fierce winds engage, "Our curling treffes fall with age. "But then by German herbs we find "Colour, for locks to grey inclin'd. "Sometimes we purchase hair; and why? "Is not all that our own we buy ? "You buy it publicly, fay they : "Why tell us that, when we don't pay. "Of French pomades the town is full: "Praise Heaven, no want of Spanish wool! "Let them look flusht, let them look dead, "That can't afford the white and red. "In Covent Garden you buy pofies, "There we our lilies and our roles. "Who would a charming eyebrow lack, "Who can get any thing that's black? "Let not these boxes open lie: "Some folks are too much given to pry. "Art not diffembled would difgrace "The purchas'd beauties of our face: "This if fuch perfons fhould discover, 'Twould rather lofe than gain a lover. "Who is there now but understands "Searcloths to flea the face or hands?

Though the idea's not fo taking, "And the skin seems hut odd in making, "Yet, when 'twill with fresh luftre shine, "Her fpark will tell you 'tis divine. "That picture there your eyes does strike; "It is the work of great Van Dycke, "Which by a Roman would be fainted: "What was't but canvas till 'twas painted? "There's feveral things should not be known:" "O'er these there is a curtain drawn, "Till 'tis their feafon to be fhewn. "Your door on fit occafions keep "Faft fhut: who knows but your're asleep? "When our teeth, colour, hair, and eyes, "And what elfe at the toilet lies, "Are all put on, we're faid to rife.

"There was a lady whom I knew, "That must be name lefs, 'cause 'tis truc, "Who had the difmaleft mifchance "I've heard of fince I was in France: "I do proteft the thoughts of it

"Have almoft put me in a fit.

"Old Lady Meanwell's chamber-door, "Just on the stairs of the first floor, "Stood open: and pray who should come, "But Knowall Houncing in the room? "No fingle hair upon her head:

thought he would have fell down dead.

46

The young look on fuch things as stuff, "Thinking their bloom has art enough. "When smooth, we matter it not at all; "'I'is when the Thames is rough, we squall. "But, whate'er it is may be pretended, "No face or shape but may be mended. "All have our faults, and must abide them, "We therefore should take care to hide them. "You're fhort; fit ftill, you'll taller feem: "You're only fhorter from the ftem. "By lofer garb your leannefs is conceal'd; "By want of ftays the groffer fhape's reveal'd: "The more the blemishes upon the feet, "The greater care the lace and fhoes be neat. "Some backs and fides are wav'd like billows:

"These holes are best made up with pillows. "Thick fingers always fhould command "Without the stretching out the hand. "Who has bad teeth fhould never fee "A play, unless a tragedy:

"For we can teach you how to fimper, "And when 'tis proper you fhould whimper. "Think that your grace and wit is now "Not in your laughing at a thing, but how. "Let room for fomething more than breath Juft fhew the ends of milk-white teeth. "There is a je n' feai quoi is found "In a foft fmooth affected found: "But there's a fhrieking crying tone, "Which I ne'er lik'd, when all is done : "And there are fome, who laugh like men, "As ne'er to shut their mouths again; "So very loud and mal-propos,

They feem like hautboys to a fhew.
"But now for the reverfe: 'tis fkill
"To let your tears flow when you will.
"It is of ufe when people die;
"Or else to have the fpleen, and cry,
"Because you have no reason why.

"Now for your talk-Come, let me fee:
"Here lose your H, here drop your T,
"Defpife that R: your fpeech is better
"Much for deftroying of one letter.
"Now lifp, and have a fort of pride
"To feem as if your tongue were tied :
"This is fuch a becoming fault,

"Rather than want, it should be taught.
"And now, that you have learnt to talk;
"Pray let me fee if you can walk.
"There's many dancing masters treat
"Of management of ladies feet.

"There's fome their mincing gait have chofe Treading without their heel or toes.

"She that reads Taffo or Malherbe, "Chooses a step that is fuperbe.

"Some giddy creatures, as if fhunning

66

Something diflik'd, are always running. "Some prance like Frenchwomen, who ride "As our life-guards men, all aftride. "But each of thefe have decoration "According to their affectation. "That dance is graceful, and will please, "Where all the motions glide with cafe. "We to the skilful theatre "This feeming want of art prefer.

""Tis no fmall art to give direction "How to fuit knots to each complexion, "How to adorn the breaft and head, "With blue, white, cherry, pink, or red. "As the morn rifes, fo that day "Wear purple, fky-colour, or grey: "Your black at lent, your green in May; "Your filamot when leaves decay. "All colours in the fummer thine : "The nymphs should be like gardens fine. "It is the fashion now-a-days, "That almost every lady plays.

Baffet and Piquet grow to be "The fubject of our comedy: "But whether we diverfion feek "In thefe, in comet, or in gleek, "Or Ombre, where true judgment can "Difclefe the fentiments of man; "Let's have a care how we discover,

Efpecially before a lover,

"Some paffions which we should conceal,
"But heats of of play too oft reveal;
For, be the matter fmall or great,
"There's like abhorrence for a cheat.
"There's nothing fpoils a woman's graces
"Like peevishness and making faces :
"Then angry words and rude discourse,
"You may be fure, become them worse.
"With hopes of gain when we're befet,
"We do too commonly forget
"Such guards as fcreen us from these eyes
"Which may obferve us, and defpife.
"I'd burn the cards, rather than know
"Of any of my friends did fo:
"I've heard of fome fuch things; but I,
"Thanks to my ftars, was never by.

"Thus we may pafs our time: the men
"A thousand ways divert their spleen,
"Whilft we fit peevishly within;

Hunting, cocking, racing, joking, "Fuddling, fwimming, fencing, fmoking; "And little thinking how poor we "Muft vent our fcandal o'er our tea. "I fee no reafon but we may "Be brifk, and equally as gay. "Whene'er our gentlemen would range, "We'll take our chariot for the 'Change: "If they're difpofing for the play, "We'll haften to the opera:

By the mahner in which Taffo and Malherbe are mentioned by Dr. King, they feem not to have been the moit fathionable authors of that age. Our author nas tranflated what he calls An admirable Ode of Malherbe."

"Or when they'll luftily carouse, "We'll furely to the Indian house: "And at fuch coft whilst thus we roam, "For cheapnefs fake they'll stay at home. "Few wife men's thoughts e'er yet pursued "That which their eyes had never view'd! "And so our never being feen

"Is the fame thing as not t’have been. "Grandeur itself and poverty

"Were equal if no witness by:

And they who always fing alone "Can ne'er be prais'd by more than one. "Had Danaë been fhut up ftill, "She'd been a maid against her will, "And might have grown prodigious old, "And never had her flory told. "ris fit fair maids fhould run a-gadding, "To fet the amorous beaux a-madding. "To many a sheep the wolf has gone "Ere it can neatly feize on one; "And many a partridge fcapes away "Before the hawk can pounce its prey: "And fo, if pretty damfels rove,

They'll find out one perhaps may love; "If they no diligence will fpare, "And in their dreffing ftill take care. "The fifher baits his hook all night, "In hopes by chance fome eel may bite. "Each with their different grace appears,

Virgins with blush, widows with tears, "Which gain new husbands tender-hearted, "To think how fuch a couple parted. "But then there are fome feppifh beaux "Like us in all things but their clothes; "That we may feem the more robust, "And fittest to accost them first : "With powder, paint, false locks, and hair, "They give themselves a female air; "Who, having all their tale by rote, "And harping ftill on the fame note, "Will tell us that, and nothing more "Than what a thousand heard before. Though they all marks of love pretend, There's nothing which they lefs intend: "And, 'midst a thousand hideous oaths, "With jewels false and borrow'd clothes, "Our eafinefs may give belief "To one that is an arrant thief."

The spark was coming; the, undreft, Scuttles away as if poffeft. The governefs cries, "Where d'ye run?" "Why, Madam, I've but just begun." She bawls; the other nothing hears, But leaves her prattling to the chairs.

Virtue, without thefe little arts,
At first fubdues, then keeps our hearts;
And though more gracefully it fhews
When it from lovely perfons flows,
Yet often goodness most prevails
When beauty in perfection fails.
Though every feature may'nt be well,
Yet altogether may excel.

There's nothing but will eafy prove,
When all the reit's made up by love.

'7

VIRGINS fhould not unskill'd in mufic be;
For what's more like themselves than harmony?
Let not vice use it only to betray,

As Syrens by their songs entice their prey.
Let it with fenfe, with voice, and beauty join,
Grateful to eyes and ear, and to the mind divine:
For there's a double grace when pleasing strings
Are touch'd by her that more delightful fings.
Thus Orpheus did the rage of deserts quell,
And charm'd the monstrous inftruments of hell.
New walls to Thebes Amphion thus began,
Whilft to the work officious marble ran.
Thus with his harp and voice Arion rode
On the mute fish fafe through the rolling flood.
Nor are the effays of the female wit
Lefs charming in the verses they have writ.
From ancient ages, love has found the way
Its bafhful thoughts by letters to convey;
Which fometimes run in fuch engaging strain,
That pity makes the fair write back again.
What's thus intended, fome fmall time delay:
His paffion ftrengthens rather by our stay.
Then with a cautious wit your pen withhold,
Left a too free expreffion make him bold;
Create a mixture 'twixt his hope and fear,
And in reproof let tenderness appear.
As he deferves it, give him hopes of life:
A cruel mistress makes a froward wife.
Affect not foreign words: Love will impart
A gentle ftyle more excellent than art.
Aftrea's lines flow on with fo much ease,
That he who writes like them must furely please.
Orinda's + works, with courtly graces ftor'd,
True fenfe in nice expreffions will afford :
Whilft Chudleigh's words feraphic thoughts ex-
prefs

In lofty grandeur, but without excess.
Oh, had not; beauty parts enough to wound,
But it must pierce us with poetic found;
Whilft Phoebus fuffers female powers to tear
Wreaths from his Daphne, which they justly wear!
If greater things to leffer we compare,
The fkill of love is like the art of war.
The general fays, "Let him the horse command:
"You by that enfign, you that cannon stand:
"Where danger calls, let t'other bring supplies."
With pleasure all obey, in hopes to rife.
So, if you have a fervant skill'd in laws,
Send him with moving speech to plead your cause.
He that has native unaffected voice,
In finging what you bid him, will rejoice.

A name afumed by Mrs. Aphra Behn. She was autherefs of feventeen plays, two volumes of novels, several tranflations, and many poems.

+ The poetical name of Mrs. Catharine Philips. She was born in London 1631; was married to James Philips, of the priory of Cardigan, Eiq. about the year 1647; and died June 1664. Her poems have been feveral times printed. She was alfo the writer of a volume of letters, intituled, Letters from Orinda to Poliarchus."

This lady was the wite of Sir George Chudleigh, Bart. of Athton, Devonfhire. She died Dec. 15, 1710. Her poems were twice printed in her lifetime in one volume 8vo. the fecond edition in 1709. She alfo published volume of effays upon several subjects, in profe and verse,

1710.

And wealth, as beauty orders it beftow'd,
Would make ev'n mifers in expences proud.
But they, o'er whom Apollo rules, have hearts
The most fufceptible of lovers' smarts,
And, like their god, fo they feel Cupid's darts':
The gods and kings are by their labours prais'd;
And they again by them to honour rais'd:
For none to heaven or majefty expreft
Their duty well, but in return were bleft.
Nor did the mighty Scipio think it feorn,
That Ennius, in Calabrian mountains born,
His wars, retirements, councils, fhould attend,
In all distinguish'd by the name of friend.
He that, for want of worlds to conquer, wept.
Without confulting Honier never slept.
The poet's cares all terminate in fame;
As they obtain, they give, a lasting name.
Thus from the dead Lucrece and Cynthia rife,
And Berenice's hair adorns the skies.
The facred bard no treacherous craft difplays,
But virtuous actions crowns with his own bays.
Far from ambition and wealth's fordid care,
In him good-nature and content appear:
And far from courts, from studious parties free,
He fighs forth Laura's charms beneath some tree;
Despairing of the valued prize he loves,
Commits his thoughts to winds and echoing groves.

Poets have quick defire and paffion strong;
Where once it lights, there it continues long.
They know that truth is the perpetual band,
By which the world and heaven of love must stand.
The poet's art softens their tempers so,
That manners easy as their verfes flow.
Oh could they but just retribution find,
And as themselves what they adore be kind!
In vain they boast of their celestial fire, [afpire!
Whilst there remains a heaven to which they can't
Apelles first brought Venus to our view,
With blooming chartns and graces ever new,
Who elfe unknown to mortals might remain,
Hid in the caverns of her native main:
And with the painter now the poets join
To make the mother and her boy divine.
Therefore attend, and from their music learn
That which their minds infpir'd could beft difcern.

Firft fee how Sidney, then how Cowley mov'd, And with what art it was that Waller lov'd. Forget not Dorset, in whofe generous mind Love, fenfe, wit, honour, every grace combin'd; And if for me you one kind with would fpare, Answer a poet to his friendly prayer. Take Stepney's verse, with candour ever bleft; For love will there ftill with his ashes reft. There let warm fpice and fragrant odours burn, And everlasting fweets perfume his urn.

Not that the living Mufe is to be scorn'd: Britain with equal worth is fill adorn'd. See Halifax, where fenfe and honour mixt Upon the merits juft reward have fixt: And read their works, who, writing in his praise, To their own verse immortal laurels raise. Learn prior's lines; for they can teach you more Than facred Ben, or Spenfer, did before: And mark him well that uncouth physic's art Can in the fofteft tune of wit impart.

Ova manners like our countenance should be;
They always candid, and the other free:
But, when our mind by anger is poffeft,
Our noble manhood is transform'd to beaft.
No feature then its wonted grace retains,
When the blood blackens in the swelling veins :
The eye-balls fhoot out fiery darts, would kill
Th' oppofer, if the gorgon had its will.
When Pallas in a river faw the flute
Deform'd her cheeks, the let the reed be mute.
Anger no more will mortify the face,

Which in that paffion once confults her glass.
Let beauty ne'er be with this torment feiz'd,
But ever reft ferene, and ever pleas'd.
A dark and fullen brow feems to reprove
The first advances that are made to love,
'To which there's nothing more averfe than pride.
Men without speaking often are denied:
And a difdainful look too oft' reveals
'Thofe feeds of hatred which the tongue conceals.
When eyes meet eyes, and smiles to imiles return,
'Tis then both hearts with equal ardour burn,
And by their mutual paffion foon will know
That all are darts, and fhot from Cupid's bow.
But, when fome lovely form does ftrike your eyes,
Be cautious ftill how you admit furprise.

What you would love, with quick difcretion view:
The object may deceive by being new.
You may fubmit to a too hafty fate,

And would shake off the yoke when 'tis too late :
We often into our deftruction fink,
By not allowing time enough to think.
Refift at first: for help in vain we pray,
When ills have gain'd full frength by long delay.
Be fpeedy; left perhaps the growing hour
Put what is now within, beyond our power.
Love, as a fire in cities finds increase,
Proceeds, and till the whole's deftroy'd won't ceafe.
It with allurements does, like rivers, rife
From little fprings, enlarg'd by vaft fupplies.
Had Mirrha kept this guard, fhe had not stood
A monumental crime in weeping wood.
Because that love is pleafing in its pain,
We not without reluctance health obtain.
Phyfic may tarry till to-morrow's fun,

Whilft the curs'd poifons through the vitals run.

The tree not to be shook has pierc'd the ground;
And death must follow the neglected wound.
O'er different ages love bears different iway,
Takes various turns to make all forts obey.
The colt unback'd we footh with gentle trace;
We feed the runner deftin'd for the race;
And 'tis with time and mafters we prepare
The manag'd courfers rushing to the war.
Ambitious youth will have fome fparks of pride,
And not without impatience be denied.
If to his love a rival you afford,

You then prefent a trial for his fword:
His eager warmth difdains to be perplext,
And rambles to the beauty that is next.
Maturer years proceed with care and sense,
And, as they feldom give, so seldom take offence:
For he that knows refiftance is in vain,
Knows likewife ftruggling will increase his pain.
Like wood that's lately cut in Paphian grove,
Time makes him a fit facrifice for love.
By flow degrees he fans the gentle fire,
Till perfeverance makes the flame affire.
This love's more fure, the other is more gay;
But then he roves, whilft this is forc'd to stay.
There are fome tempers which you muft oblige,
Not by a quick fur:ender, but a fiege;
That most are pleas'd, when driven to defpuir
By what they're pleas'd to call a cruel fair.
They think, unless their usage has been hard,
Their conqueft lofes part of its reward.
Thus fome raife (pleen from their abounding wealth,
And, clog'd with fweets, from acids feek ther
health.

And many a boat does its deftruction find
By having feanty fails, too full of wind.
Is it not treachery to declare
The feeble parts we have in war?
Is it not folly to afford

Our enemy a naked fword?
Yet 'tis my weakness to confefs
What puts men often in diftrefs:
But then it is fuch beaux as be
Poffeft with fo much vanity,
To think that wherefoe'er they turn,
Whoever looks on them muft burn.
What they defire they think is true,
With small encouragement from you.
They will a single look improve,
And take civilities for love.

"We all expected you to play:
"Was't not a miftrefs made you ftay?"
The beau is fir'd, cries," Now I find
"I out of pity must be kind :
"She figh'd, impatient till I came.”
Thus, foaring to the lively flame,
We fee the vain ambitious fly

Scorch its gay wings, then unregarded die.
Both fexes have their jealoufy,
And ways to gain their ends thereby,
But oftentimes too quick belief
Has given a fudden vent to grief,
Occafion'd by fome perfons lying,
To fet an eafy wife a-crying:
And Procris long ago, alas!
Experienc'd this unhappy cafe.

There is a Mount, Hymettus ftyl'd,
Where pinks and rosemary are wild,
Where ftrawberries and myrtles grow,
And violets make a purple fhow;
Where the sweet bays and laurel fhine,
All fhaded by the lofty pine;
Where Zephyrs, with their wanton motion,
Have all the leaves at their devotion.
Here Cephalus, who hunting lov'd,
When dogs and men were both remov'd,
And all his dufty labour done,
In the meridian of the fun,

Into fome fecret hedge would creep,
And fing, and hum himself asleep.
But commonly being hot and dry,
He thus would for fome cooler cry:
"O now, if fome

"Cooler would come!

"Cooler, come; coller, come; cooler, A woman, that had heard him fing, Soon had her malice on the wing: For females ufually don't want

A fellow-goflip that will cant;

Who ftill is pleas'd with others ails,
And therefore carries fpiteful tales.

She thought that the might raife fome ftrife
By telling fomething to his wife:
That once upon a time fhe flood
In fuch a place, in such a wood,
On fuch a day, and fuch a year,
There did, at least there did appear
('Caufe for the world fhe would not lye,
As the muft tell her by the bye)
Her husband; firft more loudly bauling,
And afterwards more foftly calling
A perfon not of the best fame,
And Miftrefs Cooler was her name.
"Now, Goffip, why should she come thither?
"But that they might be naught together?"
When Cris heard all, her colour turn'd,
And though her heart within her burn'd,
And eyeballs fent forth fudden flashes,
Her cheeks and lips were pale as ashes.
Then, "Woe the day that the was born!"
1 he nightrail innocent was torn :
Many a thump was given the breaft,
"And the, oh, the should never reft!

"She ftraight would heigh her to the wood, "And he'd repent it-that he should." With eager hafte away the moves, Never regarding scarf or gloves: Into the grotto foon the creeps, And into every thicket peeps, And to her eyes there did appear Two prints of bodies-that was clear: "And now (fhe cries) I plainly fee "How time and place, and all agree: "But here's a covert, where I'll lie, "And I fhail have them by and by."

'Twas noon; and Cephalus, as last time,
Heated and ruffled with his paftime,
Came to the very felf-fame place
Where he was us'd to wash his face;

And then he fung, and then he hum'd,
And on his knee with fingers thrum'd.
When Criffy found all matters fair,
And that he only wanted air,
Saw what device was took to fool her,
And no fuch one as Miftrefs Cooler ;
Miftrufting then no future harms,

She would have rufh'd into his arms;

But, as the leaves began to rustle,

He thought fome beast had made the bustle. He fhot, then cried, I've kill'd my deer."

ર

Ay, so you have,” (fays Cris) “I fear.""Why, Criffy, pray what made you here?". By Goffip Trot, I understood

"You kept a fmall girl in this wood "

Quoth Ceph," "Tis pity thou fhould'st die "For this thy foolish jealoufy:

"For 'tis a paffion that does move

"Too often from excess of love."

But, when they fought for wound full fore,
The petticoat was only tore,
And the had got a lufty thump,

Which in fome measure bruis'd her rump.
Then home moft lovingly they went:
Neither had reason to repent.

[trude,

Their following years pafs'd in content; And Criffy made him the best wife For the remainder of his life. The Mufe has done, nor will more laws obLeft fhe, by being tedious, should be rude. Unbrace love's fwans, let them unharness'd stray, And eat ambrofia through the milky way. Give liberty to every Paphian dove, And let them freely with the Cupids rove. But, when the Amazonian trophies rife With monuments of their pal victories; With what difcretion and what are they fought : Let them record, “ They were by Ovih taught."