POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS, An ODE

No; ye beckon me in vain, Your allurements I disdain, Powers of riot! God of wine, Though thy glist'ning forehead shine Through the garland which around Is so negligently bound; Though Joy flashes from thy eye; Though the purple goblet high Foams with wine; on thy right hand Though the soul of Pleasure stand, And Wit, and unlac'd Gaiety, Which, with Humour ever free, Jest delighted; while beside Laughter sits, and ope'ing wide His mouth, lets forth a pealing din, And shakes his jolly double chin: God of wine, thou call'st in vain, Thy allurements I disdain.

Lo, she comes, the Cyprian Queen Mark her soul-inflaming mien; Thinly clad, the Luscious Fair In Modesty's dissembled air; Hear the faintly-broken sighs; See her panting bosom rise; Two twin orbs of snowy white Gently swelling to the sight; Languid eyes, extinct their fire, Well they speak intense desire.

Does not maddening Fancy rove Through every vein provoking love: Snatch, O snatch, me to thy arms; Feast on willing Beauty's charms, Luxurious feast without controul, And bathe in rapture all thy soul.

Cyprian Venus, hence away, Scorn attends thy longer stay; I detest the bought embrace; Well I know thy practis'd face: Hence to unsuspicious Youth, Palm on him pretence for truth. By Experience rightly taught, Mine be Reason's sober thought; Temperance, and her srugal hoard, Slender fare, and homely board; Mine be calm, domestick life, The nuptial bed, the tender wife; The smiling infant on my knee, Chirping its little tale with glee.

So shall Health attend me still, So shall Pleasure drink her fill From the purest source of joy; So shall Love without alloy, Frolick o'er the hallow'd ground, And wave his genial wing around.

Cyprian Venus, to my eyes, When these home-felt transports rise, Bacchus' riot-breeding train, And thy embraces I disdain.