 | The works (1749) |  |
To Richard Earl of Burlington, with Ovid's Art of Love.
My Lord,
Our poet's rules, in easy numbers tell,
He felt the passion he describes so well.
In that soft art successfully refin'd,
Tho' angry Cæsar frown'd, the fair were kind.
More ills from love, than tyrants malice flow;
Jove's thunder strikes less sure than Cupid's bow.
He felt the passion he describes so well.
In that soft art successfully refin'd,
Tho' angry Cæsar frown'd, the fair were kind.
More ills from love, than tyrants malice flow;
Jove's thunder strikes less sure than Cupid's bow.
Ovid both felt the pain, and found the ease:
Physicians study most their own disease.
The practice of that age in this we try,
Ladies wou'd listen then, and lovers lye.
Who flatter'd most the fair were most polite,
Each thought her own admirer in the right:
To be but faintly rude was criminal,
But to be boldly so, atton'd for all.
Breeding was banish'd for the fair-one's sake,
The sex ne'er gives, but suffers ours shou'd take.
Physicians study most their own disease.
The practice of that age in this we try,
Ladies wou'd listen then, and lovers lye.
Who flatter'd most the fair were most polite,
Each thought her own admirer in the right:
To be but faintly rude was criminal,
But to be boldly so, atton'd for all.
Breeding was banish'd for the fair-one's sake,
The sex ne'er gives, but suffers ours shou'd take.
Advice to you, my lord, in vain we bring,
The flow'rs ne'er fail to meet the blooming spring.
Tho' you possess all nature's gifts, take care;
Love's queen has charms, but fatal is her snare.
The flow'rs ne'er fail to meet the blooming spring.
234
Love's queen has charms, but fatal is her snare.
On all that goddess her false smiles bestows,
As on the seas she reigns, from whence she rose.
Young zephyrs sigh with fragrant breath, soft gales
Guide her gay barge, and swell the silken sails:
Each silver wave in beauteous order moves,
Fair as her bosom, gentle as her doves;
But he that once embarks, too surely finds
A sullen sky, black storms, and angry winds;
Cares, fears, and anguish, hov'ring on the coast,
And wrecks of wretches by their folly lost.
As on the seas she reigns, from whence she rose.
Young zephyrs sigh with fragrant breath, soft gales
Guide her gay barge, and swell the silken sails:
Each silver wave in beauteous order moves,
Fair as her bosom, gentle as her doves;
But he that once embarks, too surely finds
A sullen sky, black storms, and angry winds;
Cares, fears, and anguish, hov'ring on the coast,
And wrecks of wretches by their folly lost.
When coming time shall bless you with a bride,
Let passion not persuade, but reason guide:
Instead of gold, let gentle truth endear;
She has most charms that is the most sincere.
Shun vain variety, 'tis but disease;
Weak appetites are ever hard to please.
The nymph must fear to be inquisitive;
'Tis for the sex's quiet to believe.
Her air an easy confidence must show,
And shun to find what she wou'd dread to know;
Still charming with all arts that can engage,
And be the Juliana of the age.
Let passion not persuade, but reason guide:
Instead of gold, let gentle truth endear;
She has most charms that is the most sincere.
Shun vain variety, 'tis but disease;
Weak appetites are ever hard to please.
The nymph must fear to be inquisitive;
'Tis for the sex's quiet to believe.
Her air an easy confidence must show,
And shun to find what she wou'd dread to know;
Still charming with all arts that can engage,
And be the Juliana of the age.
| The works (1749) | |