L OVE's but the frailty of the mind A fickly flame, which if not fed expires, "Tis not to wound a wanton boy, Or amorous youth, that gives the joy; But 'tis the glory to have pierced a swain For whom inferiour beauties figh'd in vain. Then I alone the conqueft prize, If there's delight in love, 'tis when I see The heart which others bleed for, bleed for me. CONGREVE, AIR AMORET is gone aftray, FA Pursue and seek her, every lover; Coquet and coy at once her air, Both ftudy'd, tho' both feem neglected, Careless she is with artful care, Affecting to feem unaffected. With skill her eyes dart every glance, Yet change fo foon you'd ne'er fufpect 'em ; For fhe'd perfuade they wound by chance, Tho' certain aim and art direct 'em, She likes herfelf, yet others hates For that which in herself she prizes; And, while fhe laughs at them, forgets, She is the thing that the despises. CONGREVE, N CHLORIS all foft charms agree, IN Inchanting humour, pow'rful wit, Beauty from affectation free, And for eternal empire fit. Where'er fhe goes love waits her eyes, The women envy, men adore; Tho' did fhe lefs the triumph prize, She would deferve the conqueft more. But vanity fo much prevails, She begs what none else would deny her, Makes fuch advances with her eyes, The hope fhe gives prevents defire: Catches at every trifling heart, Grows warm with every glimm'ring flame; The common prey fo deads her dart, It scarce can pierce a noble game. I could lie ages at her fect, My My paffion from all change fecure No favours raife, no frown controuls; I any torment can endure But hoping with a crowd of fools. ES, FULVIA is like VENUS fair, YE Has all her bloom and shape and air; But ftill to perfect every grace, She wants the smile upon her face. The crown majeftic JuNo wore, And CYNTHIA's brow the crefcent bore, Her train was form'd of fmiles and loves, find Then Then fmile my fair; and all whofe aim Shall take their forms from you alone. SHENSTONE, I TELL thee, CHARMION, Could I time retrieve, And could again begin to love and live, For by our weak and weary truth, I find, Since women love to change, and fo do we, CONGREVE, |