To CELIA

Ah, Celia! where are now the Charms, That did such wond'rous Passions move: Time, cruel Time, those Eyes disarms, And blunts the feeble Darts of Love,

What Malice does the Tyrant bear To Womens Int'rest, and to Ours? Beauties in which the Public share, The greedy Villain first devours.

Who, without Tears, can see a Prince, That Trains of fawning Courtiers had, Abandon'd, left without Defence? Nor is thy helpless Fate less sad.

Thou who so many Fools hast known, And all the Fools would hardly do, Should now confine thyself to One! And He, alas! a Husband too.

See the ungrateful Slaves, how fast They from thy setting Glories run; And in what mighty Crouds they haste, To worship Flavia's rising Sun!

In vain are all the practis'd Wiles, In vain those Eyes would Love impart; Not all th' Advances, all the Smiles, Can move one unrelenting Heart.

While Flavia, charming Flavia still, By Cruelty, her Cause maintains; And scarce vouchsafes a careless Smile To the poor Slaves that wear her Chains.

Well, Celia, let them waste their Tears, But sure they will in time Repine, That thou hast not a Face like Hers, Or she has not a Heart like Thine.