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BOOK II. ODE VIII.

To NELLY OBRIEN.
I would believe you once again,
Were you a tooth or nail the worse
For every oath you take in vain,
And every violated curse:
Though you bid Jasus fire your bones,
Confound yourself and all your kin;
Blast those bright eyes like precious stones;
Damn Helen's limbs and Leda's skin,

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False and forsworn a thousand times,
Obrien's still the public toast,
Still grows more lovely from her crimes,
Godby's intrigue and Welche's boast.
Thy perjury and subtle arts,
Venus and Cupid smiling view;
Fell love that whets with blood his darts,
On whetstone of infernal blue .
For thee our youth shoot up and grow;
Each day adds captives to thy store;
Nor can the old exhausted beau
Forbear to hanker at thy door.
Mothers and misers fear thee still;
Young beauteous brides are in alarms,
Lest thy maturer charms and skill
Should draw their husbands to thy arms.
 

Lapis infernalis, or the blue stone.