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Poems on Several Occasions

By Mr. George Woodward
 
 

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TO PHÆBE When She was ANGRY.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


172

TO PHÆBE When She was ANGRY.

Pardon, fair Maid! if ought the Muse betrays
Too supercilious in her humble Lays;
Nor proudly think, she arrogates Command;
Advice is good, tho' from the meanest Hand:
Then hear for once what your Florelio says,
Tho' you forget the Lover, mark the Poet's Lays,
In vain you think sure Arguments to find
In high-blown Passions, and a stormy Mind;

173

In vain by all the Tempest of your Soul,
You strive to frighten, what you can't controul:
Believe me then, fair Maid! believe a Friend,
Your Youth, your Beauty soon will have an End;
Then what will all this Violence avail?
Phæbe alas! then Phæbe sure must fail:
Be then advis'd, be not to Reason blind,
But let Good-Humour sway your gentle Mind;
By This Old-Age looks smiling thro' it's Flaws,
This, the strong Basis to the weakest Cause!
When Youth is fled, and Beauty drops her Darts,
This finds the surest Passage to our Hearts:
Let This your headstrong Passions once controul,
Let but This Charmer once possess your Soul;
Then, when your Youth, your Beauty suffers Ill,
Yet charming Phæbe shall be Phæbe still.