Song III., pp.251-252.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

WHilst I fondly view the charmer, 

Thus the God of love I sue, 

Gentle Cupid, pray disarm her, 

Cupid, if you love me, do: 

Of a thousand sweets bereave her, 

Rob her neck, her lips and eyes, 

The remainder still will leave her 

Power enough to tyranize. 

– 

Shape and feature, flame and passion, 

Still in every breast will move, 

More is supererrogation, 

Meer idolatry of love: 

You may dress a world of Chloes 

In the beautys she can spare; 

Hear him, Cupid, who no foe is 

To your altars, or the fair. 

– 

Foolish mortal, pray be easy, 

Angry Cupid made reply, 

Do Florella’s charms displease you, 

Die then, foolish mortal, die: 

Fancy not that I’ll deprive her 

Of the captivating store; 

Shepherd, no, I’ll rather give her 

Twenty thousand beautys more. 

– 

Were Florella proud and sour, 

Apt to mock a lover’s care; 

Justly then you’d pray that power 

Shou’d be taken from the fair: 

But tho’ I spread a blemish o’er her, 

No relief in that you’ll find; 

Still, fond shepherd, you’ll adore her, 

For the beautys of her mind. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s