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Contempt, and Poverty, and Care,
All we abhor, and all we fear,
Bleſt with thy Preſence, I can bear ;
Can ſurffer Racks, and run thro' Flame,
Still contented, ſtill the ſame ;
Then trace me ſome unheard of way,
Thy conſlant Ardour to repay,
For I my Senſe of it won'd ſhow,
In more than Woman e're cou'd do ;
Had I a Wiſh that did not bear
The Stamp and Image of my Dear,
I'd pierce my Heart thro' ev'ry Vein,
And Die to let it out again.
No: Venus ſhall my Witneſs be,
(If Venus ever lov'd like me)
That for one Hour I wou'd not quit
My Shepherds Arms, and this retreat.
To be the Perſian Monarch's Bride,
Part'ner of all his Power and Pride ;
Or rule in Regal State above,
Mother of Gods, and Wife of Love.

Happy theſe of Humane Race,
But Oh ! how ſoon our Pleaſures paſs !
He thank'd her on his bended knee,
Then drank a Quart of Milk and Tea ;
And leaving her ador'd Embrace,
Haſten'd to Court to beg a Place.
While She, his Abſenee to bemoan,
As ſoon as ever, he was gone,
dall'd Thyrſis from beneath the Bed,
Where all this time he had been hid.


WHILST Men have theſe Ambitious Fancies,
And wanton Wenches read Romances;
Our Sex will be innur'd to lye,
And theirs inſtructed to reply.
The Moral of the Tale I ſing,
(A Poſy for a Wedding Ring)
In this ſhort Verſe will be confin'd,
Love is a Jeſt, and Vows are Wind.


Printed for J. Tonſon, 1702.

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