University of Virginia Library

SOME ELEGIES OUT OF OVID'S Amours, IMITATED.

Book II. Elegy IV.

That he loves Women of all sorts and sizes.

Not I, I never vainly durst pretend
My Follies, and my Frailties to defend:
I own my Faults, if it avail to own,
While like a graceless Wretch I still go on:
I hate my self, but yet in spite of Fate
Am fain to be that loathed thing I hate:
In vain I would shake off this load of Love,
Too hard to bear, yet harder to remove:
I want the strength my fierce Desires to stem,
Hurried away by the impetuous stream.
'Tis not one Face alone subdues my Heart,
But each wears Charms, and every Eye a Dart:
And wheresoe're I cast my Looks abroad,
In every place I find Temptations strow'd,
The modest kills me with her down-cast Eyes,
And Love his ambush lays in that disguise.
The Brisk allures me with her gaity,
And shews how Active she in Bed will be:
If Coy, like cloyster'd Virgins, she appears,
She but dissembles, what she most desires:
If she be vers'd in Arts, and deeply read,
I long to get a Learned Maidenhead:
Or if Untaught, and Ignorant she be,
She takes me then with her simplicity:
One likes my Verses, and commends each Line,
And swears that Cowley's are but dull to mine:
Her in mere Gratitude I must approve,
For who, but would his kind Applauder love?
Another damns my Poetry, and me,
And plays the Critick most judiciously:
And she too fires my Heart, and she too charms,
And I'm agog to have her in my arms.
One with her soft and wanton Trip does please,
And prints in every step, she sets, a Grace:
Another walks with stiff ungainly tread;
But she may learn more pliantness abed,
This sweetly sings; her Voice does Love inspire,
And every Breath kindles, and blows the fire:
Who can forbear to kiss those Lips, whose sound
The ravish'd Ears does with such softness wound?
That sweetly plays: and while her Fingers move,
While o're the bounding Strings their touches rove,
My Heart leaps too, and every Pulse beats Love:
What Reason is so pow'rful to withstand
The Magick force of that resistless Hand?
Another Dances to a Miracle,
And moves her numerous Limbs with graceful skill:
And she, or else the Devil's in't, must charm,
A touch of her would bed-rid Hermits warm.
If tall; I guess what plenteous Game she'l yield,
Where Pleasure ranges o're so wide a Field:
If low; she's pretty: both alike invite,
The Dwarf, and Giant both my wishes fit,
Undress'd; I think how killing she'd appear,
If arm'd with all Advantages she were:
Richly attir'd; she's the gay Bait of Love,
And knows with Art to set her Beauties off.
I like the Fair, I like the Red-hair'd one,
And I can find attractions in the Brown:
If curling Jet adorn her snowy Neck,
The beauteous Leda is reported Black:
If curling Gold; Aurora's painted so:
All sorts of Histories my Love does know.
I like the Young with all her blooming Charms,
And Age it self is welcome to my Arms:
There uncropt Beauty in its flow'r assails,
Experience here, and riper sense prevails.
In fine, whatever of the Sex are known
To stock this spacious and well-furnish'd Town;
Whatever any single man can find
Agreeable of all the num'rous kind:
At all alike my haggard Love does fly,
And each is Game, and each a Miss for me.