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Sorrow flies far : See here be all the pleasures
That fancy can beget on Youthful thoughts,
When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns
Brisk as the April buds in Primrose-season.
And first behold this cordial Julep here
That flames, and dances in his crystal bounds
With spirits of balm, and fragent Syrops mixt.
Not that Nephentes which the Wife of Thone,
In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena
Is of such power to ftir up joy as this,
To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst.
Why should you be so cruel to your self,
And to those dainty limbs which Nature lent
For gentle usage, and soft delicacy?
But you invert the Cov'nants of her trust,
And harshly deal like an ill. borrower
With that which you receiv'd on other terms,
Scorning the unexempt condition
By which all mortal frailty must subsist,
Refreshment after toil, ease after pain,
That have been tir'd all day without repast,
And timely rest haye wanted, but fair Virgin
This will restore all foon.


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La. 'Twill not, false traitor, 'Twill not restore the truth and honesty That thou hast banisht from thy tongue with lies. Was this the cottage, and the safe abode. Thou told'ft me of? What grim aspects are these, These ugly-headed Monsters? Mercy guard me! Hence with thy brew'd inchantments, foul deceiver, Hast thou betray'd my credulous Innocence With visor'd fallhood, and base forgery? And would'st thou seek again to trap me here With lickerilh baits fit to insnare a brute? Were it a draft for Juno when she banquets, I would not taste thy treasonous offer ; none But such as are good men can give good things, And that which is not good, is not delicious To a well-govern'd and wise appetite.

Co. O foolishness of men ! that lend their ears To those budge Doctors of the Stoick Furr, And fetch their precepts from the Cynick Tub, Praising the lean and fallow Abstinence. Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth, With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, Covering the Earth with odours, fruits, and flocks,


Thronging the Seas with spawn innumerable;
But all to please,' and fate the curious taste?
And set to work millions of spinning Worms,
That in their green shops weave the smooth-hair’dsilks
To deck her Sons, and that no corner might
Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loyns
She hutch't th’all-worshi pt Ore, and precious Gems
To store her children with; if all the world
Should in a pet of temperance feed on Pulse,
Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but Freize,
Th’all-giver would be unthank'cgwould beunprais'd,
Not half his riches known, and yet despis’d,
And we should serve him as a grudging Master,
Aş a penurious niggard of his wealth,
And live like Nature's bastards, not her Sonsg
Who would be quite surcharg'd with her own weight,
And strangld with her waste fertility;

Th'earth cumber'd, and the wing’d air dark’t with
The herds would over-multitude their Lords,
TheSea o’erfraught would swell,and th’unfoughtDia-
Would fo emblaze the forehead of the Deep, [monds
And so bestud with Stars, that they below
Would grow inur’d to light, and come at last


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To gaze upon the Sun with shameless brows.
List Lady, be not coy, and be not cozen'd.
With that same vaunted name Virginity,
Beauty is Nature's cóyn, must not be hoorded,
But must be currant, and the good thereof
Consists in mutual and partak’n bliss,
Unfavoury in th’injoyment of it self;

you let slip time, like a neglected rose
It withers on the stalk with languish't head.
Beauty is Nature's brag, and must be shown
In Courts, at Feasts, and high Solemnities,
Where most may wonder at the workmanship; .
It is for homely features to keep home,
They had their name thence; course complexions
And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply
The sampler, and to reize the huswifes wooll.
What need a yermil-cinctur'd lip for that,
Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the Morn?
There was another meaning in these gifts,
Think what, and be advis'd, you are but young yet.

La. I had not thought to have unlockt my lips In this unhallow'd air, but that this Jugler Would think to charm my judgment as mine eyes,



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Obtruding false Rules, prańckt in Reason's garb.
I hate when vice can bole her

And virtue has no tongue to check her pride.
Impostor, do not charge most innocent Nature :
As if she would her children should be riotous;
With her abundance the good cateres,
Means her provision only to the good,
That live according to her fober laws,
And holy dictate of spare Temperance:
If every juft man, that now pines with want,
Had but a moderate and beseeming share
Of that which lewdly-pamperd Luxury
Now heaps upon some few with vast excess,
Nature's full blessings would be well dispenc'd,
In unsuperfluous even proportion,
And she no whit encumber'd with her store,
And then the giver will be better thank’d,
His praise due paid; for swinifh gluttony
Ne'er looks to Heav'n amidit his gorgeous feast,
But with besotted base ingratitude
Cramms, and blafphemes his feeder. Shall I go on?
Or have I said enough? To him that dares
Arm his prophane tongue with contemptuous words


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