Our name, while virtue thus we tender,
Will sweetly found wheree'er 'tis fpoke;
And all the great ones, they fhall wonder
How they respect fuch little folk.
What though, from Fortunes lavish bounty,
No mighty treasures we poffefs,
We'll find, within our pittance, plenty,
And be content without excefs.
Still fhall each kind returning feafon
Sufficient for our wishes give;
For we will live a life of reason,
And that's the only life to live.
Through youth and age, in love excelling,
We'll hand in hand together tread;
Sweet-fmiling Peace fhall crown our dwelling,
And babes, fweet-fmiling babes, our bed.
How should I love the pretty creatures,
While round my knees they fondly clung!
To fee them look their mothers features,
To hear them lifp their mothers tongue!
And when with envy Time transported,
Shall think to rob us of our joys;
You'll in your girls again be courted,
And I'll go wooing in my boys.
E fair married dames, who fo often deplore,
That a lover once blefs'd is a lover no more; Attend to my counfel, nor blush to be taught,
That prudence muft cherish what beauty has caught.
The bloom of your cheek, and the glance of your eye,
Your rofes and lilies may make the men figh;
But rofes and lilies, and fighs pafs away,
And paffion will die as your beauties decay.
Ufe the man that you wed like your fav'rite guittar;
Though mufic in both, they are both apt to jar;
How tuneful and foft from a delicate touch,
Not handled too roughly, nor play'd on too much!
The fparrow and linnet will feed from your hand,
Grow tame by your kindness, and come at command:
Exert with your husband the fame happy skill;
For hearts, like your birds, may be tam'd to your will.
Be gay and good-humour'd, complying and kind;
Turn the chief of your care from your face to your mind;
"Tis there that a wife may her conquefts improve,
And Hymen fhall rivet the fetters of Love.
Sung by mrs. Cibber, in the comedy of The way to keep him.
E fair poffefs'd of every charm
To captivate the will;
Whose smiles can rage itself disarm;
Whose frowns at once can kill:
Say, will you deign the verse to hear,
Where flattery bears no part;
An honeft verfe that flows fincere,
And candid from the heart?
Great is your power, but, greater yet,
Mankind it might engage,
If, as ye all can make a net,
Ye all could make a cage.
Each nymph a thousand hearts may take,
For who's to beauty blind?
But to what end a pris'ner make,
Unless we've strength to bind ?
Attend the counsel often told;
Too often told in vain :
Learn that beft art, the art to hold,
And lock the lovers chain.
Gamesters to little purpose win,
Who lofe again as fast;
Though beauty may the charm begin,
'Tis sweetness makes it laft.
AY, mighty Love, and teach my fong,
To whom thy fweeteft joys belong,
And who the happy pairs,
Whofe yielding hearts and joining hands
Find bleffings twisted with their bands,
To foften all their cares.
Not the wild herd of nymphs and fwains,
That thoughtless fly into the chains,
As cuftom leads the way:
If there be blifs without defign,
Not fordid fouls of earthly mould,
Who, drawn by kindred charms of gold,
To dull embraces move:
So two rich mountains of Peru
May rush to wealthy marriage too,
And make a world of love.
Not the mad tribe that hell infpires
With wanton flames; thofe raging fires
The purer blifs destroy:
On Ætnas top let furies wed,
And sheets of lightning drefs the bed,
T'improve the burning joy.
Nor the dull pairs, whose marble forms
None of the melting paffions warms,
Can mingle hearts and hands:
Logs of green wood that quench the coals
Are married just like Stoic fouls,
With ofiers for their bands.
Not minds of melancholy ftrain,
Still filent, or that ftill complain,
Can the dear bondage blefs :
As well may heavenly conforts spring
From two old lutes with ne'er a string,
Or none befides the bafs.
Nor can the foft enchantments hold
Two jarring fouls of angry mould,
The rugged and the keen:
Sampfons young foxes might as well
In bonds of chearful wedlock dwell,
With fire-brands tied between.
Nor let the cruel fetters bind
A gentle to a favage mind;
For Love abhors the fight:
Loose the fierce tyger from the deer,
For native rage and native fear
Rife and forbid delight.
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