For oh! your face has fuch peculiar charms,
That who can hold from flying to your arms!
But what I ne'er can have without offence,
May fome bleft maid poffefs with innocence.
Pleasure may tempt, but virtue more should move;
O learn of me to want the thing you love.
What you defire is fought by all mankind:
have eyes, fo others are not blind.

As you

Like you they fee, like you my charms adore;
They with not lefs, but you dare venture more.
Oh! had you then upon our coafts been brought,
My virgin-love when thousand rivals fought,
You had I feen, you should have had my voice;
Nor could my husband juftly blame my choice,
For both our hopes, alas! you come too late;
Another now is mafter of my fate.

More to my wish I could have liv'd with you,
And yet my present lot can undergo.
Ceafe to follicit a weak woman's will,
And urge not her you love to fo much ill.
But let me live contented as I may,

And make not my unfpotted fame your prey.
Some right you claim, fince naked to your eyes
Three Goddeffes difputed beauty's prize:
One offer'd valour, t'other crowns; but he
Obtain'd her caufe, who fmiling promis'd me.
But first I am not of belief fo light,

To think fuch nymphs would fhew you fuch a fight:
Yet granting this, the other part is feign'd;

A bribe fo mean your fentence had not gain'd.
With partial eyes I fhould myself regard,
To think that Venus made me her reward:

I humbly am content with human praise;
A Goddefs's applaufe would envy raife.
But be it as you fay; for, 'tis confeft,
The men, who flatter higheft, please us beft.

T

That I suspect it, ought not to displease;
For miracles are not believ'd with cafe.
One joy I have, that I had Venus' voice;
A greater yet, that you confirm'd her choice;
That proffer'd laurels, promis'd fovereignty,
Juno and Pallas you contemn'd for me.

Am I your empire then, and your renown?
What heart of rock, but must by this be won?
And yet bear witnefs, O you Pow'rs above,
How rude I am in all the arts of love!
My hand is yet untaught to write to men:
This is th' effay of my unpractis'd pen.
Happy thofe nymphs, whom use has perfect made!
I think all crime, and tremble at a fhade.
E'en while I write, my fearful conscious eyes
Look often back, misdoubting a surprise.
For now the rumour spreads among the croud,
At court in whispers, but in town aloud:
Diffemble you, whate'er you hear 'em fay:
To leave off loving were your better way;
Yet if you will diffemble it, you may.
Love fecretly: the abfence of my lord
More freedom gives, but does not all afford:
Long is his journey, long will be his stay;
Call'd by affairs of confequence away.
To go, or not, when unrefolv'd he stood,
1 bid him make what swift return he could:
Then kiffing me, he faid, I recommend
All to thy care, but moft my Trojan friend.
I fmil'd at what he innocently faid,

And only anfwer'd, You fhall be obey'd.
Propitious winds have borne him far from hence,
But let not this fecure your confidence.

Abfent he is, yet abfent he commands:

You know the proverb, "Princes have long hands."
My fame's my burden; for the more I'm prais'd,
A jufter ground of jealoufy is rais’d.

}

Were I lefs fair, I might have been more bleft:
Great beauty through great danger is poffeft.
To leave me here his venture was not hard,
Because he thought my virtue was my guard.
He fear'd my face, but trufted to my life,
The beauty doubted, but believ'd the wife.
You bid me ufe th' occafion while I can,
Put in our hands by the good easy man.

I would, and yet I doubt, 'twixt love and fear;
One draws me from you, and one brings ine near.
Our flames are mutual, and my hufband's gone:
The nights are long; I fear to lie alone.

One house contains us, and weak walls divide,
And you're too preffing to be long deny'd.
Let me not live, but ev'ry thing confpires
To join our loves, and yet my fear retires.

You court with words, when you should force employ:
A rape is requifite to fhame-fac'd joy.
Indulgent to the wrongs which we receive,
Our fex can fuffer what we dare not give.
What have I faid? for both of us 'twere beft,
Our kindling fire if each of us fuppreft.

The faith of strangers is too prone to change,
And, like themfelves, their wand'ring paffions range.
Hypfipile, and the fond Minonian maid,

Were both by trufting of their guests betray'd.
How can I doubt that other men deceive,
When you yourself did fair Oenone leave?
But left I fhould upbraid your treachery,
You make a merit of that crime to me.
Yet grant you were to faithful love inclin'd,
Your weary Trojans wait but for a wind.
Should you prevail; while I affign the night,
Your fails are hoifted, and you take your flight:
Some bawling mariner our love deftroys,
And breaks afunder our unfinish'd joys.

But

But I with you may leave the Spartan port,
To view the Trojan wealth and Priam's court:
Shown while I fee, I shall expose my fame,
And fill a foreign country with my shame.
In Afia what reception fhall I find?

And what difhonour leave in Greece behind?
What will your brothers, Priam, Hecuba,
And what will all your modeft matrons say?
E'en you, when on this action you reflect,
My future conduct juftly may fufpect;
And whate'er ftranger lands upon your coaft,
Conclude me, by your own example, loft.
I from your rage a ftrumpet's name shall hear,
While you forget what part in it you bear.
You, my crime's author, will my crime upbraid:
Deep under ground, oh, let me first be laid!
You boast the pomp and plenty of your land,
And promife all fhall be at my command:
Your Trojan wealth, believe me, I defpife;
My own poor native land has dearer ties.
Should I be injur'd on your Phrygian shore,
What help of kindred could I there implore?
Medea was by Jafon's flatt'ry won:

I

may, like her, believe, and be undone.
Plain honeft hearts, like mine, fufpect no cheat,
And love contributes to its own deceit.

The ships, about whofe fides loud tempefts roar,
With gentle winds were wafted from the shore.
Your teeming mother dream'd a flaming brand,
Sprung from her womb, confum'd the Trojan land.
To fecond this, old prophecies confpire,

That Ilium fhall be burnt with Grecian fire.
Both give me fear; nor is it much allay'd,
That Venus is oblig'd our loves to aid.

For they, who loft their cause, revenge will take;

And for one friend two enemies

you make.

Nor

Nor can I doubt, but, should I follow you,
The fword would foon our fatal crime pursue.
A wrong fo great my husband's rage would rouse,
And my relations would his caufe efpoufe.

You boast your strength and courage; but, alas!
Your words receive fmall credit from your face.
Let heroes in the dufty field delight,

Those limbs were fashion'd for another fight.
Bid Hector fally from the walls of Troy;
A fweeter quarrel fhould your arms employ.
Yet fears like these should not my mind perplex,
Were I as wife as many of my fex.

But time and you may bolder thoughts infpire;
And I perhaps may yield to your defire.
You last demand a private conference;

These are your words, but I can guess your sense.
Your unripe hopes their harvest must attend:
Be rul'd by me, and time may be your friend.
This is enough to let you understand;
For now my pen has tir'd my tender hand:
My woman knows the secret of my heart,
And

may hereafter better news impart.