Sidor som bilder

But hope not thou, in this vile age, to find
Those rare examples of a faithful mind.
The sea shall fooner with sweet honey flow;
Or from the furzes pears and apples grow. 855
We fin with gust, we love by fraud to gain ;
And find a pleasure in our fellow's pain.
From rival foes

you may the fair defend; But, would you ward the blow, beware your

friend : Beware your brother, and your next of kin ; 860 But from


bosom-friend your care begin. Here I had ended, but experience finds, That sundry women are of fundry minds; With various crotchets fill'd, and hard to please : They therefore must be caught by various ways. All things are not produc'd in

866 This ground for wine is proper, that for oil. So 'tis in men, but more in womankind : Different in face, in manners, and in mind : But wife men shift their fails with


wind : As changeful Proteus vary'd oft his shape, 871 And did in fundry forms and figures 'scape ; A running stream, a standing tree became, A roaring lion, or a bleating lamb. Some fish with harpons, fome with darts are

struck, Some drawn with nets, fome hang upon

the hook :

any soil;


ages hold;


So turn thyself; and imitating them,
Try several tricks, and change thy stratagem.
One rule will not for different
The jades grow cunning, as they grow more

Then talk not bawdy to the bashful maid ;
Broad words will make her innocence afraid.
Nor to an ignorant girl of learning speak;
She thinks you conjure, when you talk in Greek.
And hence 'tis often seen, the simple fun
The learn'd, and into vile embraces run.

Part of my task is done, and part to do : But here 'tis time to rest myself and you.


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FOR mighty wars I thought to tune my lute,
And make my measures to my subject fuit.
Six feet for ev'ry verse the Muse design'd:
But Cupid, laughing, when he saw my mind,
From ev'ry second verse a foot purloin'd.
Who gave thee, boy, this arbitrary sway,
On subjects, not thy own, commands to lay,
Who Phæbus only and his laws obey ?
'Tis more absurd than if the Queen of Love
Should in Minerva's arms to battle move;
Or manly Pallas from that queen

should take
Her torch, and o'er the dying lover shake.
In fields as well may Cynthia fow the corn,
Or Ceres wind in woods the bugle-horn.
As well may Phæbus quit the trembling string,
For sword and shield ; and Mars may learn to

Already thy dominions are too large;
Be not ambitious of a foreign charge.
If thou wilt reign o'er all, and every where,
The god of Music for his harp may fear.


Thus when with soaring wings I seek renown, Thou pluck'st my pinions, and I flutter down. Could I on such mean thoughts my Muse em

ploy, I want a mistress or a blooming boy. Thus I complain’d : his bow the stripling bent, And chose an arrow fit for his intent. 26 The shaft his purpose fatally pursues ; Now, poet, there's a subject for thy Muse. He said : too well, alas, he knows his trade; For in my breast a mortal wound he made. 30 Far hence, ye proud hexameters, remove, My verse is pac'd and trammel'd into love. With myrtle wreaths my thoughtful brows in

close, While in unequal verse I sing my woes.

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