OR mighty wars I thought to tune my lute,
And make my measures to my fubject fuit.
Six feet for ev'ry verse the Muse design'd:
But Cupid, laughing, when he saw my mind,
From ev'ry fecond verse a foot purloin'd.
Who gave thee, boy, this arbitrary saw,'
On fubjects, not thy own, commands to lay,
Who Phoebus only and his laws obey?
'Tis more abfurd 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 Phœbus quit the trembling ftring,
For fword and fhield; and Mars may
learn to fing.
Already thy dominions are too large;
Be not ambitious of a foreign charge.
If thou wilt reign o'er all, and ev'ry where,
The God of Mufic for his harp may fear.
Thus when with foaring wings I feek renown,
Thou pluck'ft my pinions, and I flutter down.
Could I on fuch mean thoughts my Mufe employ,
I want a mistress or a blooming boy.
Thus I complain'd: his bow the stripling bent,
And chofe an arrow fit for his intent.
The shaft his purpose fatally pursues ;
Now, poet, there's a fubject for thy Muse.
He faid too well, alas, he knows his trade;
For in my breast a mortal wound he made.
(Far hence, ye proud hexameters, remove)
My verfe is pac'd and trammel'd into love.
With myrtle wreaths my thoughtful brows inclose,
While in unequal verfe I fing my woes.
To bis mistress, whofe husband is invited to a feaft with them. The poet inftructs her how to behave berfelf in his company.
UR hufband will be with us at the treat;
May that be the laft fupper he fhall eat.
And am poor
I a guest invited there,
Only to fee, while he may touch the fair?
To fee you kifs and hug your naufeous lord,
While his leud hand defcends below the board?
Now wonder not that Hippodamia's charms,
At such a fight, the Centaurs urg'd to arms;
That in a rage they threw their cups afide,
Affail'd the bridegroom, and would force the bride.
I am not half a horse, (I would I were)
Yet hardly can from you my hands forbear.
Take then my
counfel; which, obferv'd, may be
Of fome importance both to you and me.
Be fure to come before your man be there;
There's nothing can be done; but come howe'er.
Sit next him (that belongs to decency)
But tread upon my foot in paffing by.
Read in my looks what filently they speak,
And flily, with your eyes, your anfwer make:
My lifted eye-brow fhall declare my pain;
My right-hand to his fellow fhall complain;
And on the back a letter fhall defign;
Befides a note that shall be writ in wine.
Whene'er you think upon our laft embrace,
With your fore-finger gently touch your
any word of mine offend my dear,
Pull, with your hand, the velvet of your ear.
If you are pleas'd with what I do or fay,
Handle your rings, or with your fingers play.
As fuppliants ufe at altars, hold the board,
Whene'er you with the devil
When he fills for you, never touch the cup,
But bid th' officious cuckold drink it up.
The waiter on thofe fervices employ:
Drink you, and I will fnatch it from the boy; Watching the part where your sweet mouth hath
And thence with eager lips will fuck it in.
If he, with clownish manners, thinks it fit
To tafte, and offer you the nafty bit,
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