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To Bellaria, looking at Philander, as he counterfeited Sleep in an Alcove.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


62

To Bellaria, looking at Philander, as he counterfeited Sleep in an Alcove.

While mimick Slumbers close Philander's Eyes,
Bellaria views him with a soft Surprize.
Not Cynthia with more Pleasure e'er survey'd
Her dear Endymion, on Mount Latmos laid:
Nor was the Youth possest of nobler Charms,
Altho' a Goddess took him to her Arms.
Lovely Impostor, ope thy piercing Eye,
And warn the dazled Nymph from Death to fly.
For while you veil the fair, destructive Light,
Too safe, and yet too fatal is the Sight.

63

Turn, heedless Maid, the tempting Danger shun,
Who dares to look, is sure to be undone.
While negligently thus the Charmer lies,
To full Advantage in this fair Disguise;
Fearless we view the Wonders of his Face,
Run o'er each Line, and ev'ry Beauty trace:
Unaw'd, the whole harmonious Form survey,
And fondly gaze our Liberty away.
Thus, Madam, tho' I sing Philander's Praise,
And talk with Freedom in advising Lays:
Tho' I presume his Person to commend,
Yet fear no Rival in a faithful Friend:
Far from my Thoughts such Insolence remain,
Who never durst indulge a Wish so vain:
Love does not always move the Poet's Pen,
You are more dear than all the Race of Men.

64

'Tis for your sake Philander is ador'd,
Bellaria's Fav'rite but Maria's Lord.