Grac'd him with now and then a smile,
But inly scorn'd him all the while;

Refolv'd at laft a trick to fhew him,

Seeming to yield and fo undo him.

Now which way, do you think, she took?
(For do't she would by hook or crook)
Why, thus I find it in my book.

She call'd a pretty painted cloud,
The brightest of the wand'ring crowd,
For fhe you know is queen o' th' air,
And all the clouds and vapours there
Governs at will, by nod or fummons,
As Walpole does the house of commons.
This cloud which came to her stark naked,
She drefs'd as fine as hands could make it.
From her own wardrobe out she brought
Whate'er was dainty, wove or wrought,
A finock which Pallas fpun and gave
Once on a time to gain her favour;

A

gown that ha'n't on earth its fellow,
Of finest blue and lined with yellow,
Fit for a Goddess to appear in,
And not a pin the worfe for wearing.

her

A quilted

A quilted petticoat befide,

With whalebone hoop fix fathom wide.
With these the deck'd the cloud, d'ye fee?
As like herself, as like could be:

So like, that could not I or you know
Which was the cloud, and which was Juno.
Thus drefs'd the fent it to the villain,
To let him act his wicked will on :
Then laugh'd at the poor fool aloud,
Who for a Goddess grafp'd a cloud.

This you will fay was well done on her
T'expose the tempter of her honour-
But more of him you need not hear;
Only to Strephon lend an ear.

He never entertain'd one thought
With which a Goddefs could find fault;
His spotless love might be forgiven
By every faint in earth and heaven.

Juno herself, though nice and haughty,
Would not have judg'd his paffion naughty.
All this Chlorinda's felf confefs'd,

And own'd his flame was pure and chafte,
Read what his teeming Mufe brought forth,
And prais'd it far beyond its worth :

"

Mildly receiv'd his fond addrefs,

And only blam'd his love's excess :

Yet fhe, fo good, fo fweet, fo fmiling,

So full of truth, fo unbeguiling,

One way or other still devis'd

To let him fee he was defpis'd:

And when he plum'd, and grew most proud,

All was a vapour, all a cloud.

A TAL E.

To CHLORIND A.

By the Same.

DAME Venus, a daughter of Jove's,

And amongst all his daughters most fair, Loft, it seems, t' other day the two doves,

That wafted her car through the air.

The

The dame made a heavy fad rout,

Ran about heav'n and earth to condole 'em;

And fought high and low to find out,

Where the biddyes were stray'd, or who stole 'em.

To the God, who the ftragglers fhould meet,
She promis'd moft tempting fine pay,

Six kiffes than honey more sweet,

And a feventh far fweeter than they.

But it

The propofal no fooner was made, put all the Gods in a flame; For who would not give all he had

To be kifs'd by fo dainty a dame?

To Cyprus, to Paphos they run,

Where the Goddess oft us'd to retire; Some rode round the world with the fun, And search'd every country and shire.

But with all their hard running and riding,
Not a God of 'em claim'd the reward;

For no one could tell tale or tiding,

If the doves were alive or were starv'd.

At laft the fly shooter of men

Young Cupid, (I beg the God's pardon)
Mamma, your blue birds I have seen
In a certain terrestrial garden.

Where, where, my dear child, quickly fhew,
Quoth the dame, almost out of her wits:
Do but go to Chlorinda's, fays Cu,

And you'll find 'em in fhape of pewits.

Is it fhe that hath done me this wrong?
Full well I know her, and her arts;
She has follow'd the thieving trade long,
But I thought she dealt only in hearts.

I fhall foon make her know, fo I fhall-
And with that to Jove's palace fhe run,
And began like a bedlam to bawl,

I am cheated, I'm robb'd, I'm undone.

Chlorinda, whom none can approach,

Without lofing his heart or his senses, Has ftol'n the two doves from my coach, And now flaunts it at Venus' expences.

She