Has acted ill for fuch a god,
And taken ways extremely odd.
And thou, unhappy child, fhe faid,
(Her anger by her grief allay'd)
Unhappy child, who thus haft loft
All the estate we e'er could boast;
Whither, O whither wilt thou run,
Thy name despis'd, thy weakness known?
Nor fhall thy fhrine on earth be crown'd;
Nor shall thy power in heaven be own'd;
When thou nor man nor god canft wound.
Obedient Cupid kneeling cried,

Ceafe, dearest mother, cease to chide
Gany's a cheat, and I'm a bubble:

:

Yet why this great excess of trouble?
The dice were falfe: the darts are gone ::
Yet how are you, or I, undone?

The loss of these I can fupply
With keener shafts from Cloe's eye:
Fear not we e'er can be disgrac'd
While that bright magazine shall last :
Your crowded altars ftill fhall smoke ;.
And man your friendly aid invoke :
Jove fhall again revere your power,
And rife a fwan, or fall a fhower.

CUPID

CUPID MISTAKE N..

I.

AS after noon, one fummer's day,

Venus food bathing in a river;

Cupid a-fhooting went that way,

New ftrung his bow, new fill'd his quiver..

II.

With skill he chose his sharpest dart,

With all his might his bow he drew ;: Swift to his beauteous parent's heart The too-well-guided arrow flew..

III.

I faint! I die! the goddefs cried:
O cruel, could'st thou find none other,,
To wreck thy fpleen on? parricide!

Like Nero, thou haft flain thy mother..
IV.

Poor Cupid fobbing fcarce could speak ;
Indeed, Mamma, I did not know ye:
Alas! how eafy my mistake!"

I took you for your likenefs Cloe.

VENU S

WE

MISTAKEN.

HEN Cloe's picture was to Venus shown, Surpris'd, the goddess took it for her own. And what, faid fhe, does this bold painter mean? When was I bathing thus, and naked seen ?

VOL. XXXII.

R

II. Pleas'd

Pleas'd Cupid heard, and check'd his mother's pride: And who's blind now, Mamma? the urchin cried. Tis Cloe's eye, and cheek, and lip, and breast : Friend Howard's genius fancied all the reft.

I

A SON G.

F wine and musick have the power

To ease the sickness of the foul; Let Phoebus every string explore,

And Bacchus fill the fprightly bowl. Let them their friendly aid employ, To make my Cloe's abfence light; And feek for pleasure, to destroy

The forrows of this live-long night.

But fhe to-morrow will return :

Venus, be thou to-morrow great;
Thy myrtles ftrow, thy odours burn;
And meet thy favourite nymph in ftate.
Kind goddess, to no other powers

Let us to-morrow's bleffings own:
Thy darling loves fhall guide the hours;
And all the day be thine alone.

THE

THE DO V E.

<< Tantæne animis coeleftibus iræ ?

I.

IN Virgil's facred verse we find,

That paflion can deprefs or raise The heavenly, as the human mind: Who dare deny what Virgil fays?

II.

prove:

But, if they should, what our great master
Has thus laid down my tale fhall
Fair Venus wept the fad disaster
Of having loft her favourite Dove.

III.

In complaifance poor Cupid mourn'd;
His grief reliev'd his mother's pain;
He vow'd he'd leave no ftone unturn'd, .
But she should have her Dove again.
IV.

Though none, faid he, fhall yet be nam'd,
I know the felon well enough:
But be the not, Mamma, condemn'd
Without a fair and legal proof.

V.

With that, his longeft dart he took,
As conftable would take his ftaff:

That gods defire like men to look,
Would make ev'n Heraclitus laugh.

R 2

VIRG.

VT. Love's

VI.

Love's fubalterns, a duteous band,

Like watchmen, round their chief appear ::
Each had his lantern in his hand;

And Venus mafk'd brought up the rear..
VII.

Accoutred thus, their eager step
To Cloe's lodging they directed :.
(At once I write, alas! and weep,
That Cloe is of theft fufpected).

VIII.

Late they fet out, had far to go:

St. Dunstan's as they pafs'd ftruck one.. Cloe, for reafons good, you know,

Lives at the fober end o' th' town.

IX.

With one great peal they rap the door,
Like footmen on a visiting-day.

Folks at her house at such an hour!

Lord! what will all the neighbours fay?

X.

The door is open up they run:

Nor prayers, nor threats, divert their speed: Thieves thieves! cries Sufan; we're undone ; They'll kill

my

mistress in her bed,

XI.

In bed indeed the nymph had been

Three hours: for, all historians fay,

She commonly went up at ten,
Unless piquet was in the way.

XII. She