ON AN ILL-FAVORED LORD.
THAT Macro's looks are good let no man doubt,
Which I, his friend and fervant-thus make out:
In ev'ry line of his perfidious face
The fecret malice of his heart we trace;
So fair the warning, and fo plainly writ,
Let none condemn the light that shows a pit.
Cocles, whofe face finds credit for his heart,
Who can escape so smooth a villain's art?
Adorn'd with ev'ry grace that can perfuade,
Seeing, we truft, tho' fure to be betray'd:
His looks are fnares, but Macro's cry Beware;
Believe not tho' ten thoufand oaths he fwear.
If thou 'rt deceiv'd, observing well this rule,
Not Macro is the knave, but thou the fool.
In this one point he and his looks agree,
As they betray their mafter-so did he.
WOMEN to cards may be compar'd: we play
A round or two; when us'd we throw away;
Take a fresh pack: nor is it worth our grieving
Who cuts or fhuffles with our dirty leaving.
ADIEU L'AMOUR.
HERE end my chains, and thraldom cease;
If not in joy, I'll live at least in peace.
Since for the pleasures of an hour
We must endure an age of pain,
I'll be this abject thing no more:
Love! give me back my heart again.
Defpair tormented firft my breast,
Now Falfehood, a more cruel guest.
O! for the peace of human-kind,
Make women longer true or fooner kind.
With juftice or with mercy reign,
O Love! or give me back my heart again.
LES MALHEURS DE L'AMOUR.
HASTE to Clarinda, and reveal
Whatever pains poor lovers feel;
When that is done, then tell the fair
That I endure much more for her.
Who'd truly know love's pow'r or smart,
Muft view her eyes and read my heart.
EARL OF PETERBOROUGH,
On his happy accomplishment of the marriage between his Royal Highness and the Princess Mary d' Efié of Modena. Written feveral Years after, in imitation of the fyle of Mr. Waller.
His Juno barren, in unfruitful joys
Our British Jove his nuptial hours employs:
So Fate ordains, that all our hopes may be,
And all our prospects, gallant York! in thee.
By the fame with aspiring queens are led,
Each languishing, to mount his royal bed;
His youth, his wisdom, and his early fame,
Create in ev'ry breast a rival flame:
Remotest kings fit trembling on their thrones,
As if no diftance could fecure their crowns;
Fearing his valour, wifely they contend
To bribe with beauty fo renown'd a friend:
Beauty the price, there need no other arts;
Love is the fureft bait for heroes' hearts;
Nor can the fair conceal as high concern
To fee the prince for whom, unfeen, they burn.
Brave York! attending to the gen'ral voice,
At length refolves to make the with'd-for choice:
To noble Mordaunt, generous and juft,
Of his great heart he gives the facred truft.
"Thy choice," faid he, "fhall well direct that heart
"Where thou, my best belov'd, hat fuch a part:
"In council oft', and oft' in battle try'd,
"Betwixt thy mafter and the world decide."
The chofen Mercury prepares t' obey
This high command. Gently, ye Winds! convey,
And with aufpicious gales his fafety wait,
On whom depend Great Britain's hopes and fate.
So Jafon, with his Argonauts, from Greece
To Colchos fail'd, to feek the Golden Fleece.
As when the goddeffes came down of old
On Ida's hill, fo many ages told,
With gifts their young Dardanian judge they try'd,
And each bade high to win him to her fide;
So tempt they him, and emulously vie
To bribe a voice that empires would not buy:
With balls and banquets his pleas'd fenfe they bait,
And queens and kings upon his pleasures wait.
Th' impartial judge furveys, with vast delight,
All that the fun furrounds of fair and bright;
Then, strictly juft, he, with adoring eyes,
To radiant Efté gives the royal prize.
Of antique ftock her high defcent she brings,
Born to renew the race of Britain's kings.
Who could deferve like her, in whom we fee
United all that Paris found in three?
O equal pair! when both were fet above
All other merit but each other's love.
Welcome, bright Princefs! to Great Britain's fhore,
As Berecynthia to high heav'n, who bore
That shining race of goddeffes and gods
That fill'd the fkies, and rul'd the bleft abodes:
From thee my Muse expects, as noble themes,
Another Mars and Jove, another James:
Our future hopes all from thy womb arife,
Our prefent joy and fafety from your eyes;
Those charming eyes! which fhine to reconcile
To harmony and peace our stubborn Isle.
On brazen Menmon Phoebus cafts a ray,
And the tough metal fo falutes the day.
The British dame, fam'd for resistless grace,
Contends not now but for the fecond place;
Our love fufpended, we neglect the fair
For whom we burn'd, to gaze adoring here.
So fang the Syrens, with enchanting found,
Enticing all to liften and be drown'd,'......
Till Orpheus ravish'd in a nobler strain;
They ceas'd to fing, or finging charm'd in vain,
This blefs'd alliance, Peterborough! may
Th' indebted nation bounteously repay;
Thy ftatues, for the Genius of our land,
With palm adorn'd, on ev'ry threshold stand.
-------------Utinam modo dicere poffem
Carmina digna Dea: certe eft Dea carmine digna.
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