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Ile glories in late times to be convey'd, Clarinda's bosom burns, but burns for fame ; Nor for the poor he has relieu d, but made, And love lies vanquish'd in a nobler flame; Not such ambitiou lus great fathers fird, Warm gleams of hope she now dispenses; then, When Harry conquer'd, and half France expird. Like April suns, dives into clouds again.

He'd be a slave, a pimp, a dog, for gain; With all her lustre now her lover warms;
Nay, a dull sherifl for bis golden chain. Then, out of ostentation, hides her charms.

« Who'd be a slave?" the gallant colonel cries, 'Tis next her pleasure sweetly to complain,
While love of glory sparkles from bis eyes. And to be taken with a suulden pain;
To deathless fame he loudly pleads his right; Then she starts up all ecstasy arid bliss,
Just is bis tile, for I will not fight :

And is, sweet soul! just as sincere in this.
All soldiers valor, all divines have grace, Oh how she rolls her charming eyes in spite !
As maids of honor Leality — by their place. And looks delightfully with all her might!
But when indulging on the last campain, But like our heroes, much more brave than wise,
His lofty terms climb o'er the bills of slain, She conquers for the triumph, not the prize.
He gives the fives he slew, at each vain word, Zará resembles Ætna crown'd with snows;
A sweet revenge, and half absolves his sword. Without she freezes, and within she glows.

Of' boasting more than of a bonıb afraid, Twice cre the sun descends, with zeal inspird, A soldier should be modest as a maid.

From the vain converse of the world retir d; Fame is a bubble the resur'd enjoy,

She reads the psalms and chapters for the day Who strive to grasp it, as they couch, destroy : In— Cleopatra, or the last new play. 'Tis the world's debt to deeds of high degrer : Thus gloomy Zara with a solemn grace But if you pay yourself, the world is free. [own, Deceives mankind, and hides behind her face.

Were there no wngue iu speak them but his Nor far beneath her in renown is she Augustiis' deeds in arins had ne'er been known; Who, thro' good breeding, is ill company: Angestus' deeds ! if what ambiguous name Whose manners will not let her laruin cease, Confound my reader, and misguides his aiin, Who thinks you are unbappy when at peace; Such is the princes' worth of whom I speaki, To find you news who racks her subtle head, The Roman would not blush at the mistake. And vows that her great grandfather is dead.

A dcarılı of words a woman need not fear;

But 'tis a task indeed to learn - 10 hear.
On Women.

In that the skill of conversation lies :
O fairest of creation ! last and best

That shows or makes you both polite and wise. Of all god's works! creature in whom excell'd, Xantippe cries, “Let nymps who nought can Whatever can to sight or thought be formd, " Be losi in silence, and resign the day; (say Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet! “ And let the guilty wife her guilt confess How art thou lost!

MILTox. By tame behaviour, and a soft address." Nor reigns ainbition in bold man alone ; Thro' virtue, she refuses to comply Soft female arts the rule invader own. With all the dictates of humanity;. Bre there, indeed, it deals in nicer things Thro' wisdom, she refuses to submit Than routing arinies and dechironing kinys. To wisdom's rules, and raves to prove her wit: Attend, and voti discern it, in the fair, Then, her unblemish'd honor 10 inaintain, Conduct a tiniger, or reclaim a hair:

Rejects her husband's kindness with disdain. Or roll the lucid orbit of an eye:

But, if by chance an ill-adapted word
Or in full joy elaborate a sigh. (blame ; Drops from the lip of her unwary lord,

The sex we honor, tho' their faults we ller darling china in a whirlwind sent,
Nay, thank their faults försuch a fruitful theme. Just intimates the lady's discontent.
A theme, fair -! doubly kind to me,

Wine may indeed excise the meekest dame; Since satirising those is praising thee; But, kecu Xantippe, scorning borrow'd flanie, Who would'st thou bcar, too modestly refin'd, Can vent her thunders, and her lightnings play, A panegyric of a grosser kind.

O'er cooling gruel and composing tea Britannia's daughters, much more fair than Nor rests by night; but, more sincere than nice, Too fond of miration, lose their price ; [uice, She shakes the curtains with her kind advice. Worn in the public eye, give cheap delight Doubly like Echo, sound is her delight, To throngs, and tarnish io the fated sight. And the last word is her eternal right. As unreserv'd and beauteous as the sun, Is 't not enough plagues, wars, and familles rise Thro' every sign of vimity they run ;

To lash our crimes, but must our wives be wise? Assemblies, parks, coarse feasis in city halls, Famine, plague, war, andanunnumber'd throng Lectures and trials, plays, coinmittees, bulis, Of guilt-avenging ills, to man belong; Welis, Bedlains, executions, Smithfield scenes, What black, what ceaseless cares besiegcour state! And fortune-teilers' caves, and lions' dens, What strokes we feel from fancy and from fate! Taverns, exchanges, Bridewells,drawing-rooms, If fate. forbears as, fancy strikes the blow; Instalments, pillories, coronations, tombs, We make misfortune, suicides in woe. Tumblers, and fucrals, puppet-shows, reviews, Superfinous aid! unnecessary skill! Sales, races, rabbits, and (still stranger!) pews. Is nature backward to torment or kill?


How oft the noon, how oft the inidnight bell, Sempronia lik'd her man, and well she might, (That iron tungue of death!) with soleinn knell, The youth in person and in parts was bright; On folly's errands as we vainly roam,

Possess'd of ev'ry virtue, grace, and art, Knocks at our hearts, and finds our thoughts That claims just empire o'er the female heart. from home!

He inet ber passion, all her sichs return’d, Men drop so fasi, ere life's mid stage we tread, And in full rage of youthful ardor burn’d. Few know so many friends alive as dead. Large his possessions, and beyond her own: Yet, as immortal, in our uphill chace Their bliss the thenie and envy of the town. We press coy furtune with unslackend pace; The day was fixed; when, with one aere more, Our ardent labors for the toys we seck


step deformr'd. debauch'd, «liseas'd threescore. Join night to day, and Sunday to the week. The fatal sequel I thro' shame forbear : Our very joys are anxious, and expire

Of pride and ar’rice who can cure the fair? Between satiely and fierce desire.

Man's rich with little, were his judgement true.
Now what reward for all this grief and toil? Nature is frugal, and her wants are few ;
But one — a female friend's endearing smile; Those few wants answer'd bring sincere delights,
A tencer smile, our sorrow's only balm, But fools create themselves new appetites,
And, in life's tempest, the sad sailor's calm. l'ancy and pride scek things at vast expence,

How have I seen a gentle nyền ph draw nigh, Which relish nor to reason nor to sense.
Peace in her air, persuasion in her eye ;

When surfeit or unthankfulness destroys, Victorious tenderness! it all o'ercaine; In nature's narrow sphere, our solid joys, Husbands look'd mild, and savages grew tame. In fancy's airy land of noise and show, The sylvan race our active nymphs pursue ; Where nought but dreains, 110 real pleasures g

STOW, Man is not all the game they have in view : Like cats in air pumps, to subsist we strive la woods and fields their glory they complete, On joys too thin 10 keep the soul alive. There Master Betty leaps a five-barr'd gate ; Lemira's sick, make baste, the doctor call : While fair Miss Charles to toilets is confin'd,

He comes;

but where's his patient? At the ball.
Nor rashly tempts the barb'rous sun aud wind. The doctor stares, her woman curt'sies low,
Some nynıphs affect a more heroic breed, And cries,“ My lady, Sir, is always so.
And vault from hunters to the manged steed; “ Diversions put her maladies to flight; [nigiit.
Command his prancings with a martial air ; " True, she can't stand, but she can dance all
And Fobert has the forming of the fair. “ I've known my lady (for she loves a tune)

More than one steed musi Delia's empire feel," For fevers take an opera in June ; [bold,
Who sits triumphant o'er the flying wheel : “ And though perhaps you 'll think the practice
And, as she guides it thro' th'adíniring throng ! " A midnight park is sov’reign for a cold.
With what an air she smacks the silken thong!

“ With colics, breakfasts of green agree;
Graceful as John she moderates the reins, " With indigestions, supper just at three."
And whistles sweet her diuretic strains. A strange alternative! replies Sir Hans ;
Sesostris-like, such charioteers as these Must women have a doctor, or a dance?
May drive six harness'd monarchs, if they please. Tho' sick to cleath, abroad they safely roam ;
They drive, row, run, with love of glory smit; But droop and die, in perfect health at home.
Leap, swim, shoot flying, and pronounce on wit. For want -- but not of health — are ladies ill;

O'er the belles lettres lovely Daphne reigns, And tickets cure beyond the doctor's pill. Again the god Apollo wears her chains. Alas! my hcart, how languishingly fair With legs ioss'd high on her sophee she sits, Yon lady lolls! with what a tender air ! Vouchsafing audience to contending wits; Pale as a yomg dramatic author, when Of each performance she 's the final test ; D'er darling lines fell Cibber waves his pen. One act read o'er, she prophesies the rest; Is her lord angry, or as Viny* chid? And then pronouncing with decisive air, Dead is her father, or the mask forbid ? Fully convinces all the town - she's fair. “ Late sitting up has turn'd her roses white." Had lovely Daphne Hecatessa's face, Why went she not to bed? “ Because 'twas How would her elegance of taste decrease!

“ night.” Some ladies' judgement in their features lies, Did she then dance or play? “ Nor this or that." And all their genius sparkles froin their eyes. Well night soon steals away in pleasing chat.

But hold, she cries, lampooner! have a care: “ No, all alone, her pray'rs she rather chose, Must I want common sense because I 'm fair ? “ Than be thatwretch to sleep till morning rose." Oh no! see Stella : her eyes shine as bright Theu Lady Cynthia, mistress of the shade, As if her tongue was never in the right; Goes with the fashionable owls, to bed. And yet what real learning, judgement, fire! This her pride covets, this her health denies ; She seeins inspir’d, and can herself inspire. Her soul is silly, but her body's wise. How then (if malice ruld not all the fair) Others with curious arts dim charms revive, Could Daphne publish, and could she forbear? And triumph in the bloom of fifty-five. We grant that beauty is no bar to sense, You in the morning a fair nymph' invite, Nor is 't a sanction for impertinence. To keep her word a brown one coines at night;

Next Lap-dog


So gross


Next day she siviies in ykossy black and then With what well-acied iransport will she say, Resolves into her nativered again.

Well, sue, we were so happy yesterday? Likvadove's neck, sue shifishertransientcharnis, And then that charming party for to-morrow !" And is her own dear rival in your arins. Thu' well she knows 'twill langzish into sorrow,

But one adınser has the painted lass; But she dares never boast the present hour; Nor finds that one lut in her looking-glass.

that cheat, it is beyond her pow'r. Yet Laura 's beautiful to such excess,

For such is or our weakness or our curse, That all her art scarce males her please the less: Or rather such our crime, which still is worse, To deck the female cheek lle only kuows, The present moment, like a wife, we shun, Who paints less fair the lily and the rose. (pours, And he'er enjoy, because it is our own.

How gay they smile! such blessings Dilure Pleasures are few, and fewer we enjoy ; O'erstocko manhin crisy but half her stores; Pleasure, like quicksilver, is bright and ony; In distant wilis, by human erus unseen, We strive to grasp it, with our utmost skill, Sliercars her flow'rs, ancispreadsher velveigreen. Still ii dues us, and it glitters still: Pure gurrling rilis the lovely desart trace, If seis'd at last, compuse your migliig gains ; And waste ticii inusic Online stage race. "Uhat is it but rank poisou in your veins? Is Nature then a niggare of her bliss?

As Flavia in her glass an angel spies, Repine we guililes 111 11 orld like this? Pride whispers in lier ear perniciou, lies; But our lend lasies her lawful clarins refuse, Tells her, while she surveys a face so fine, And painted art's deprav'd allormenis choose. Tiere's no satiety of charms divine: Such Tulia's passion for the town; fresh air Hence, if her lover yawns, all chang'd appears (An old eifect!) gives vapors to the fair : Her temper, and slie melts (sweet soul!) in tears. Green fields, and shadly groves,inderystal-prings, She, fond and young, last week her wishenjoy'd, And lark, and noluingikes, are odious things : In sofi antisenient all the night employd; Butsmoke, anddusi, advoise, audierowds,delight; The morning came, when Strephon waking found And to be prest to death, transports her quite. Surprising sight!) his bride in sorrow drown'd. Where silver riv'les play vro' fluw'ry meals, "Whatmuracie,'say:Surephon, nakesthee weep?' Acidi voodbines give their streets, and Times their •Ah barbarous man!' slie cries, ' how could you Black kennels' absent colors she regrets, [sliades, Men love a inistress as they love a feast;(sleepi' stops her nose at beds of: iolets.

llow grateful one to touch, and one to taste! Is stormy life preferr'd to this serene ? Yet sure there is a certain time of day, Or is the public to the private scenes

We wish our mistress and our meat away. Retird, we creaci a smooth and open way; But soon the sated appetites return : Tivo'briers and brambles, in ile world we Again our stomachs crave, our bosoms burn. Stiff opposition, and perplex'd debate, [st:ay, Eternal love let Man then never swear; And thorny care, and rank and singing late, Let women never triumph, nor despair. Which choke our passage, our career control, Nor praise norblaine too much the warm orchill; And wound ihe firmnestiinper of the soul. Hunger and love are forcign to the will. O sacred solitude, divine retreat!

There is indeed a passion more refind, Choice of the prudent, envy of die great! For those few nymphs whose charms are of the By thy pure stream, or in thy waving shade, But 07 of that unfashionable set

[mind: l'e court fair "l'isdom, thuicclestial maid: 1 Phillis : Phillis and her Damon met. The genuine offspring of her lor'd embrace Eternal love exactly hits her taste; (Strangers on carih!) are Innocence and Peace. Pbillis demands eternal love at least. There, from the ways of men laid safe ashore, timbracing Phillis with soft siniling eyes, We smile to hear the distant tempest roar ; Evrnal love I vow, ihe swain replies: Thcre, blest witis health, with business unper- But say, my all, my ini-tress, and my friend! This life we relish and ensure the next;[plexu, Whan day next week thi' eternity shall end? There to the Muses sport; these numbers free, Some nymphs prefer astronomy to love; Pierian Eastbury! Lowe to thee.

Elope from mortal men, and range above. There sport the Muses but not here slone; The fair philosopher to Rowley flies, Their sacred force Amelia feels in town. Where in a box the whole creation lies. Naught but a genius can a genius fit; She sees the planets in their turns advance ; it wit herseli, Amclia weds a wit.

And scorns, Poitier, thy sublunary dance. Both wits! tho miracles are said to cease, Of Desigulier she bespeaks fresh air, Three days, three wondrous days they liv'd in And Whiston has engagements with the fair. With thefourth sun a warın di-pure ar use (peace; What vain experiments Sophronia tries ! On Durfey's poesy, and Bunyan's prose. 'Tis not in air-pumps the gay colonel dies, The learned war both wage with equal force, But tho' to-day this rage of science reigas And the fifth morn concluded the divorce. (Ofickle sex!) soon end her learned pains.

Phæbe, tho' she possesses nothing less, Lo! Pug from Jupiter her heart has got, Is proud of being rich in happiness ; Turns out the stars, and Newton is a sot. Laboriously pursues delusive toys,

Totum; she never took the height Content with pains, since they're reputed joys. Of Saturn, yet is ever in the right:


She strikes each point with native force of mind| The fair, 'tis true, by genius should be won,
While puzzled learning blunders far behind. As flow'rs unfold their beauties to the sun;
Graceful to sight, and elegant to thought, And yet in female scales a fop outweighs,
The greatare vanquish'd, and the wise are taught. And wit must wear the willow with the bays,
Her breeding finish’d, and her temper sweet ; Nought shines so bright in vain Liberia's eye
When serious, easy; and when gay, discreet ; As riot, impudence, and perfidy;
In glitt'ring scenes, o'er her own heart severe; The youth of fire, that has drunk deep, and play'd,
In crowds collected, and in courts sincere ; And kill'd his man, and triumph'd o'er his maids
Sincere and warm with zeal well understood, Forhim, as yet unhang'd, she spreads her charms,
She takes a noble pride in doing good. Snatches the dear destroyer to her arms,
Yet, not superior io her sex's cares,

And amply gives (tho' treated long aniss)
The mode she fixes by the gown she wears ; The man of merit his revenge in this.
Of silks and china she's the last appeal;

If you resent, and wish a woman ill,
In these great points she leads the cominonweal: But iurn her o'er one moment to her will.
And if disputes of empire rise between

The languid lady next appears in state,
Mechlin, the queen of lace, and Colberteen, Who was not born to carry her own weight;
Tis doubt! 'tis darkness! ull suspended fate She lolls, reels, staggers, till some foreign aid
Assumnes her nod to close the grand debate. To her own stafure lifts the feeble maid.
When such her mind, why will the fair express Then, if ordain'd to so severe a doom,
Their emulation only in their dress? [skies, She by just stages journeys round the room ;

But, oh! the nymph that mounts above the But, knowing her own weakness, she despairs And, gratis, clears religious mysteries ! To scale the Alps -- that is, ascend the stairs. Resolv'd the church's welfare to ensure, My fan, let others say who laugh at toil; And make her family a sinecure.

Fan! hood! glove ! scarf! is her laconic styler The theme divine at cards she 'll not forget, And that is spoke with such a dying fall, But takes in texts of scripture at piquet ; That Betty rather sees than hears the call : In those licentious meetings acts the prude, The motion of her lips, and meaning eye, And thanks her maker that her cards are good. Pierce out the idea her faint words deny. What angels would these be, who thus excel Oh listen with attention most profound ! In theologics, could they sew as well!

Her voice is but the shadow of a sound. Yet why should not the fair her text pursue ? And help! oh help! her spirits are so dead, Can she more decently the doctor woo? One hand scarce lifts the other to her head. Tis hard too, she who makes no use but chat If there a stubborn pin it triumphs o'er, Of her religion, should be barr'd in that. She pants ! she sinks away! and is no more. Isaac, a brother of the canting stain,

Let the robust and the gigantic carve; When he has knockd at his own skull in vain, Life is not worth so much, she'd rather starve : To beauteous Marcia often will repair, But chew she mast, herself, ah, cruel fate! With a dark text, to light it at the fair., That Rosalinda can 't by proxy eat. Oh how his pious soul exults to find

An antidote in female caprice lies Such love for holy men in womankind ! (Kind heaven !) against the poison of their eyes, Charm’d with her learning, with

what rapture he Thalestris triumphs in a manly mien :
Hangs on her bosom, like an industrious bee! Loud is her accent, and her phrase obscene,
Huins round about her; and with all his pow'r In fair and open dealing where's the shame?
Extracts sweet wisdom from so fair a flow'r! What nature dares to give, she dares to name.

The young and gay declining, Abra fies This honest fellow is sincere and plain,
At nobler game, the mighty and the wise : And justly gives the jealous husband pain.
But nature more an eagle than a dove, (Vain is the task to petticoats assign d,
She impiously prefers the world to love. If wanton language shows a naked mind.)

Can ivealth give happiness? look round, and see And now and then, to grace her eloquence, What gay distress ! what splendid misery! An oath supplies the vacancies of sense. Whatever fortune lavishly can pour,

Hark! the shrill notes transpierce the yieldingair, The mind annihilates, and calls for more : And teach the neighb'ring echos how to swear. Wealth is a cheat, believe not what it says ; By Jove, is faint, and for the simple swain ; Like any lord it promises and pays. She on the Christian system is profane. How will the miser startle to be told

But tho' the volley rattles in your ear, Of such a wonder as insolvent gold !

Believe her dress, she's not a grenadier. What nature wants has an intrinsic weight; If thunder's awful, how much more our dread All more is but the fashion of the plate, When Jove deputos a lady in his stead ! Which, for one moment, charms the fickle view: A lady! pardon my mistaken pen ; It charms us now; anon we cast anew, A shameless woman is the worst of men To some fresh birth of fancy more inclin'd: Few to good breeding make a just pretence, Then wed not acres, but a noble mind. Good breeding is the blossom of good sense ;

Mistaken lovers!' who make worth their care, The last result of an accomplish'd mind, And think accomplishments will win the fair. With outward grace, the body's virtue, join'd.


A violated A violated decency now reigns;

Who into shelter takes their tender bloom, And nymphs for failings take peculiar pains. And forms their minds to fly from ills to come? With Indian painters modern toasts agree, The mind when turo'd adrift, no rules to guide, The point they aim at is deformity:

Drives at the mercy of the wind and tide; They throw their persons with a hoyden air Fancy and passion toss it to and fro, Across the room, and toss into the chair. Awhile torment, and then quite sink in woe. So far their commerce with mankind is gone, Ye beauteous orphans ! since in silent dust They for our manners have exchang'd their own. Your best example lies, my precepts trust. The modest look, the castigated grace, Life swarms with ills ; the boldest are afraid; The gentle movement, and slow measur'd pace, Where then is safety for a tender maid? For which her lovers died, her parents paid, Unfit for conflict, round beset with woes, Are indecorums with the modern maid." And inan, whom least she fears, her worst of foes! Stiff forms are bad, but let not worse intrude, When kind, most cruel; when oblig'd the most, Nor conquer art and nature to be rude. The least'obliging, and by favors lost. Modern good-breeding carry to its height, Cruel by nature, they for kindness hate, And Lady D-_'s self will be polite. And scorn vou for i hose ills themselves create.

Ye rising fair! ye bloom of Britain's isle! If on your fame our sex a blot has thrown, When bigh-born Anna with a softeu'd smile "Twill ever stick thro' malice of your own. Leads on your train, and sparkles at your head, Most hard ! in pleasing your chief glory lies; What seeins most hard, is not to be well-bred. And yet from pleasing your chief dangers rise : Her bright example with success pursue, Then please the best; and know, for men of sense And all but adoration is your due.

Your strongest charms are native innocence. But adoration ! give me something more, Arts on the mind, like paint upon the face, Cries Lyce, on the borders of threescore; Fright him that 's worih your love from your Nought treads so silent as the foot of Time; In simple manners all the secret lies; [embrace. Hence we mistake our autumn for our prinie: Be kind and virtuous, you 'll be blest and wise. 'Tis greatly wise to know, before we 're told, Vain show and noise intoxicate the brain. The inelancholy news that we grow old. Begin with giddiness, and end in pain, Autumnal Lycé carries in her face

Affect not empty fame and idle praise, Memento mori to each public place.

Which all those wretches I describe betrays. Oh how your beating breast a mistress warms, Your sex's glory 'tis to shine unknown ; Who looks thro' spectacles to see your charms! Of all applause be foudest of your own. While rival undertakers hover round,

Beware the fever of the mind, that thirst And with his spade the sexton marks the ground, With which this age is eminently curst. Intent not on her own, but others' doom,

To drink of pleasure but ivflumes desire,
She plans new conquests, and defrauds the tomb. And abstinence alone can quench ihe fire.
In vain the cock has summon'd sprights away, Take pain from life, and terror from the tomb,
She walks at noon, and blasts the bloom ofday. Give peace in land, and promise bliss to come.
Gay rainbow silks her mellow charms infold,

And nought of Lyce but herself is eld.
Her grizzled locks assume a smirkling grace,

On Women.
And art has levellid her deep-furrow'd face. Inscribed to the Right Ilonorable Lady Eliza-
Her strange demand no mortal can approve' ;

beth Germain. We'll ask her blessing, but can 't ask her lore.

Interdum tamen et tollit Comedia vocem. HOR She grants indeed a lady may decline (all ladies but herself) at ninety-nine.

I sought a patroness, but sought in vain : O how anlike her was the sacred age Apollo whisper'd in my car - Germain." Of prudent Portia ! her grey hairs engage, I know her vot. “Your reason's somewhat odd; Whose thoughts are snited to ber life's decline, " Whoknows his patron now?" replied the god. Virtue's the paint that can make wrinkles shine. “Men write, to me and to the world unknown; That, and that only, can old age sustain ; Then steal great names to shield them froin Which yet all wisti, nor know they wish for pain. " the town. Not numerous are our joys when life is new, “ Detected worth, like beauty disarray'd, And yearly some are falling of the few ; “ To covert flies, of praise itself afraid; But when we conquer life's meridian stage, “ Should she refuse to patronize your lays, And downward tend into the vale of age, “ In vengeance write a volume in her praise. They drop apace; by nature some decay, “Nor think it hard so great a length to run; And some the blasts of fortune sweep away; “ When such the theme, 'twill easily be done." Till, naked quite of bappiness, aloud

Ye fair! to draw your excellence at length, We call for death, and shelter in a shroud. Exceeds the narrow bounds of human strength:

Where's Portia now? But Portia left behind You hear in miniature your picture see; Two lovely copies of her form and mind. Nor hope from Zincksmorejustice than from one. What heart untouch'd their early grief can view, My portraits grace your mind, as his your side; Like blushing rose-buds dipt in morning dew? His portraitswillinflame,minequench your pride:


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