University of Virginia Library

To Mrs. Manley, on her Tragedy call'd The Royal Mischief. Sent by an unknown hand.

What , all our Sex in one sad hour undone,
Lost are our Arts, our Learning, our Renown,
Since Natures tide of Wit came rouling down.
From you it flows with unresisted force,
Nor can united Envy stop its course;
Keen are your Eyes we know, and sure their Darts,
Fire to our Soul they send, and Passions to our hearts;
Needless was an addition to such arms,
Where all Mankind are Vassals to your Charms;
That hand but seen gives wonder and desire,
Snow to our fight, but with its touches fire:
You stroke our Souls, and all the Passions move,
By fierce desires made fit for raging Love;
Who sees thy yielding Queen, and woul'd not be
On any terms the blest the Happy be
Entranc'd, we fansie all his Ecstasy.
Quote Ovid now no more ye amorous Swains;
Delia, than Ovid has more moving Strains:
Nature alone in her Exceeds all Art,
And Nature sure does nearest touch the heart.
O might I call the bright discoverer mine,
The whole fair Sex unenvied I'd resign,
Give all my happy hours to Delia's Charms,
She who by writing thus our wishes warms,
What Worlds of Love must Circle in her Arms.