Poems on Several Occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

Begon! Bold Rival from my Fair,
Thou hast no Plea for Business there;
'Twere needless where the Lilly grows,
To add Perfumes, or to the Rose;
Faint are the Sweets which thou canst give,
To those which in her Bosom Live;

Thence tender Wishes, Amorous Sighs,
Love's Breath, the richest Odours rise.
Not all the Spices of the East,
Nor Indian Grove nor Phænix Nest,
Send forth an Odour to compare
With what we find to please, us there
Where Nature has been so profuse,
Thy little Arts are of no use.
Thou canst not add a grace to her,
She's all Perfection every where.
Speak sawcy thing, for I will know
How much to her, and me you owe.
Whence comes this sweetness so Divine?
Speak, is it hers, or is it thine?
Ha! Varlet, by the fragrant smell
'Tis her's, all her's, I know it well;
I know you rob'd Olivia's Store,
But hence! For you shall steal no more.

Be gone! She has no room for thee,
Olivia's bosom must be free,
For nothing but for Love and me.