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Fy, fy, you naughty man, are words of courfe;
She ftruggles but to be fubdu'd by force.
Kifs only foft, I charge you, and beware,
With your hard briftles not to brush the fair.
He who has gain'd a kifs, and gains no more,
Deferves to lose the blifs he got before.
If once the kiss, her meaning is expreft;
There wants but little pufhing for the reft:
Which if thou doft not gain by strength or art,
The name of clown well fuits with thy defert;
'Tis downright dulnefs, and a fhameful part.
Perhaps the calls it force; but, if the 'fcape,
She will not thank you for th' omitted rape.
The fex is cunning to conceal their fires;

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They would be forc'd e'en to their own defires.
They feem t' accufe you, with a downcaft fight,
But in their fouls confefs you did them right.
Who might be forc'd, and yet untouch'd depart,
Thank with their tongues, but curfe you with their heart.
Fair Phoebe and her fifter did prefer
To their dull mates the noble ravisher.
What Deidamia did, in days of yore,
The tale is old, but worth the reading o’er.
When Venus had the golden apple gain'd,
And the juft judge fair Helen had obtain'd:
When the with triumph was at Troy receiv'd,
The Trojans joyful, while the Grecians griev'd:
They vow'd
revenge of violated laws,
And Greece was arming in the cuckold's caufe:
Achilles, by his mother warn'd from war,
Difguis'd his fex, and lurk'd among the fair.
What means acides to spin and few ?
With fpear and fword in field thy valour fhew;
And, leaving this, the nobler Pallas know.
Why doft thou in that hand the diftaff wield,
Which is more worthy to fuftain the shield ?

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Or

Or with that other draw the woolly twine,
The fame the fates for Hector's thread affign?
Brandish thy falchion in thy pow'rful hand,
Which can alone the pond'rous lance command.
In the fame room by chance the royal maid
Was lodg'd, and, by his feeming sex betray'd,
Close to her fide the youthful hero laid.

I know not how his courtship he began ;
But, to her coft, fhe found he was a man.

'Tis thought the ftruggled; but withal 'tis thought,
Her wish was to be conquer'd, when she fought.
For when disclos'd, and haft'ning to the field,
He laid his distaff down, and took the fhield,
With tears her humble fuit fhe did prefer,
And thought to stay the grateful ravisher.
She fighs, fhe fobs, fhe begs him not to part:
And now 'tis nature, what before was art.
She strives by force her lover to detain,
And wishes to be ravifh'd once again.
This is the fex, they will not first begin,
But, when compell'd, are pleas'd to fuffer fin.
Is there, who thinks that women firft fhould woo?
Lay by thy felf-conceit, thou foolish beau.
Begin, and fave their modefty the shame;
Tis well for thee, if they receive thy flame.
'Tis decent for a man to speak his mind;
They but expect th' occafion to be kind.
Ask, that thou mayft enjoy; fhe waits for this;
And on thy firft advance depends thy blifs,
E'en Jove himself was forc'd to sue for love;
None of the nymphs did firft folicit Jove.
But if you find your pray'rs increase her pride,
Strike fail awhile, and wait another tide.
They fly when we purfue; but make delay,
And, when they see you flacken, they will stay.
VOL. III.

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Some

Sometimes it profits to conceal your end;
Name not yourself her lover, but her friend.
How many skittish girls have thus been caught?
He prov'd a lover, who a friend was thought.
Sailors by fun and wind are fwarthy made;
A tann'd complexion beft becomes their trade.
"Tis a difgrace to ploughmen to be fair;
Bluff cheeks they have, and weather-beaten hair.
Th' ambitious youth, who feeks an olive crown,
Is fun-burnt with his daily toil, and brown.
But if the lover hopes to be in grace,

Wan be his looks, and meagre be his face.
That colour from the fair compaffion draws:
She thinks you fick, and thinks herself the caufe.
Orion wander'd in the woods for love:

His palenefs did the nymphs to pity move;
His ghaftly visage argu'd hidden love.
Nor fail a night-cap, in full health, to wear;
Neglect thy drefs, and difcompofe thy hair.
All things are decent, that in love avail:
Read long by night, and ftudy to be pale:
Forfake your food, refuse your needful reft;
Be miferable, that you may be bleft.

Shall I complain, or fhall I warn you most?
Faith, truth, and friendship in the world are loft;
A little and an empty name they boaft.

Truft not thy friend, much lefs thy miftrefs praise;
If he believe, thou may'st a rival raise.
'Tis true, Patroclus, by no luft misled,
Sought not to ftain his dear companion's bed.
Nor Pylades Hermione embrac'd;

E'en Phædra to Pirithous ftill was chafte.
But hope not thou, in this vile age, to find
Thofe rare examples of a faithful mind.
The fea fhall fooner with fweet honey flow;
Or from the furzes pears and apples grow.

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Wa

We fin with guft, we love by fraud to gain ;
And find a pleasure in our fellow's pain.
From rival foes you may the fair defend ;

But, would you ward the blow, beware your friend:
Beware your brother, and your next of kin ;
But from your bofom-friend your care begin.
Here I had ended, but experience finds,
That fundry women are of fundry minds;
With various crotchets fill'd, and hard to please:
They therefore must be caught by various ways.
All things are not produc'd in any foil;
This ground for wine is proper, that for oil.
So 'tis in men, but more in womankind:
Diff'rent in face, in manners, and in mind:
But wife men fhift their fails with every wind:
As changeful Proteus vary'd oft his shape,
And did in fundry forms and figures 'fcape;
A running ftream, a ftanding tree became,
A roaring lion, or a bleating lamb.

Some fish with harpons, fome with darts are ftruck,
Some drawn with nets, fome hang upon the hook:
So turn thyfelf; and imitating them,

Try fev'ral tricks, and change thy ftratagem.
One rule will not for diff'rent ages hold;
The jades grow cunning, as they grow more old.
Then talk not bawdy to the bashful maid;
Broad words will make her innocence afraid.
Nor to an ign'rant girl of learning speak;
She thinks you conjure, when you talk in Greek.
And hence 'tis often feen, the fimple fhun
The learn'd, and into vile embraces run.
Part of my task is done, and part to do:
But here tis time to reft myself and you.

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O V ID's

FROM

AMOUR S.

F

BOOK I. ELE G. I.

OR mighty wars I thought to tune my lute, And make my measures to my subject suit. Six feet for ev'ry verfe the mufe defign'd: But Cupid, laughing, when he faw my mind, From ev'ry fecond verfe a foot purloin'd. Who gave thee, boy, this arbitrary fway, On fubjects, not thy own, commands to lay, Who Phoebus only and his laws obey? 'Tis more abfurd than if the Queen of Love Should in Minerva's arms to battle move; Or manly Pallas from that queen should take Her torch, and o'er the dying lover shake. In fields as well may Cynthia fow the corn, Or Ceres wind in woods the bugle-horn. As well may Phoebus quit the trembling ftring, For fword and shield; and Mars may learn to fing. Already thy dominions are too large;

Be not ambitious of a foreign charge.

If thou wilt reign o'er all, and ev'ry where,
The God of Mufick for his harp may fear.
Thus when with foaring wings I seek renown,
Thou pluck'ft my pinions, and I flutter down.
Could I on fuch mean thoughts my Mufe employ,
I want a mistress or a blooming boy.
Thus I complain'd: his bow the ftripling bent,
And chofe an arrow fit for his intent.

The

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