And why all Night purfue Her in my Dreams, RECIT Thus fung the Bard; and thus the Goddess fpoke: Ev'ry State, and ev'ry Age Shall own My Rule, and fear My Rage: ARIE T Bid Thy deftin'd Lyre discover Soft Defire, and gentle Pain: Verse shall please, and Sighs fhall move Her: Her Right Name. AS NANCY at Her Toylet sat, Admiring This, and blaming That ; Tell Me, She faid; but tell Me true; In Ringlets rather dark than fair, Does down her Iv'ry Bofom roll, May fay, how Red, how Round, how Sweet: Old HOMER Only cou'd indite Their vagrant Grace, and foft Delight: They stand Recorded in his Book, Too plainly fhow'd, She knew the Face: Written in an OVI D. OVID is the fureft Guide, You can name, to fhow the Way To any Woman, Maid, or Bride, Who refolves to go aftray. A A TRUE MADD.0b A no; for my Virginity, O, no; When I lose that, fays Rose, I'll dyei Behind the Elmes, laft Night, cry'd DICK, ROSE, were You not extreamly Sick? TEN EN Months after FLORIMEL happen'd to wed, And was brought in a laudable Minnet to Bed; She warbl'd Her Groans with fo charming à Voice, no That one half of the Parish was ftun'd with the Noife. But when FLORIMEL deign'd to lie privately in, Ten Months before She and her Spouse were a-kin ; She chose with fuch Prudence her Pangs to conceal, That her Nurfe, nay her Midwife, fcarce heard her once fqueal. Sood) Learn, Husbands, from hence, for the Peace of your Lives, That Maids make not half fuch a Tumult, as Wives. A REASONABLE AFFLICTION. ON His Death-Bed N His Death-Bed poor LUBIN lies: His Spouse is in Despair: With frequent Sobs, and mutual Cries, Zzz A diff'rent Cause, says Parfon SLY, T Poor LUBIN fears, that He fhall Dies 151.9 Another REASONABLE AFFLICTION. FRO That the Slattern had left, in the Hurry and Haft, HE ANOTHERM ST ER Eye-brow-Box one Morning loft,uki rod mi i (The best of Folks are oft'neft croft)ont Sad HELEN thus to JENNY faid, red, abundanti, ato i Her careless but afflicted Maid; o odam kinkimit Put me to Bed then, wretched JANE: Alas! when fhall I rife again? THAMO8A: I can behold no Mortal now: For what's an Eye without a Brown On the fame Subject. IN a dark Corner of the House, Poor HELEN fits, and fobs and cries: On the Same. HELEN was juft flipt into Bed: Her Eye-brows on the Toilet lay; For this Misfortune careless JANE, Affure your felf, was loudly rated: And Madam getting up again, HIYH With her own Hand the Moufe-Trap baited. ก On little Things, as Sages write, y sonid) { Depends our Human Joy, or Sorrow:com of I If We don't catch a Moufe To-night,norily a s Alas! no Eye-brows for Tomorrow. Dagorb : 12 PHILLIS's |