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Chloe's CONQUEST.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


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Chloe's CONQUEST.

'Twas by a purling Stream, beneath a Shade,
Young Chloe, Cupid, and Alexis play'd:
Love's Goddess, with her Doves, sat looking on;
And, smiling, nodded to her wanton Son:
Her wanton Son his keenest Arrow drew;
Swift, to the Swain, the pointed Weapon flew.
Inflexible to Love, the Shepherd stood,
Repell'd the Shaft, and mock'd the baffled God;
Till Chloe rais'd her Eyes with killing Art,
And shot him with a more pernicious Dart:
Yours is the Victory, Alexis cries;
Not Cupid's Shaft has kill'd, but Chloe's Eyes.