Brave, gen'rous, witty, and exactly free A permanent, fincere, fubftantial Blifs. (For who would fo much Satisfaction lose, part Fresh, vital Heat to the transported Heart. I'd have her Reafon all her Paffion fway; Easy in Company, in private gay: Coy to a Fop, to the Deserving free Still conftant to herself, and just to me. A Soul she should have for great Actions fit; Prudence and Wisdom to direct her Wit: Courage to look bold Danger in the Face; No Fear, but only to be proud or base: Quick to advise, by an Emergence preft, To give good Counsel, or to take the best. I'd have th' Expreffion of her Thoughts be fuch, She might not seem referv'd, nor talk too much : That shews a Want of Judgment, and of Sense; More than enough is but Impertinence. Her Conduct regular, her Mirth refin'd; Civil to Strangers, to her Neighbours kind: Averse to Vanity, Revenge, and Pride; In all the Methods of Deceit untry'd: So faithful to her Friend, and good to all, No Cenfure might upon her Actions fall: Then would e'en Envy be compell'd to say, She goes the leaft of Womankind aftray. To this fair Creature I'd fometimes retire; Her Conversation wou'd new Joys inspire: Give Life an Edge so keen, no furly Care Would venture to affault my Soul, or dare, Near my Retreat, to hide one fecret Snare. But fo divine, fo noble a Repast I'd feldom, and with Moderation, tafte: For For highest Cordials all their Virtue lofe, My Tongue, my Pen, my Counfel, or my Sword. A Plague to him, who'd be a Plague to me.. To give for my Revenge fo dear a Rate: If Heav'n a Date of many Years would give, Then Then would my Exit fo propitious be, All Men would wish to live and die like me. CRUELTY and LUST. An EPISTOLARY TALE. * WHE By Mr. POMFRET. HERE can the wretched'ft of all Creatures fly, To tell the Story of her Mifery? Where, but to faithful Celia, in whofe Mind I fear these Lines will scarce be understood, Whofe Cruelty has caus'd a Sea of Tears; *This Piece was occafioned by the Barbarity of Kirke, a Commander in the Western Rebellion, 1685, who debauched a young Lady, with a Promise to fave her Hufband's Life, but banged him the next Morning.. Fill'd each lamenting Town with Fun'ral Sighs, Deploring Widows Shrieks, and Orphans Cries. At ev'ry Health the horrid Monster quaff'd, Ten Wretches dy'd; and, as they dy'd, he laugh'd: Till, tir'd with acting Devil, he was led, Drunk, with Excefs of Blood and Wine, to Bed. Oh, curfed Place!- I can no more command My Pen; Shame and Confusion shake myHand: But I must on, and let my Celia know How barb'rous are my Wrongs, how vaft my Woe. Amongst the Croud of Western Youth, who ran To meet the brave, betray'd, unhappy Man*, Unus❜d to Arms, and thoughtless of th' Event. *The Duke of Monmouth. Where |