To CHLOE in an ill Humour

Consider, sweet maid, and endeavour To conquer that pride in thy breast; It is not an haughty behaviour Will set off thy charms to the best.

The ocean, when calm, may delight you; But should a loud tempest arise, The billows enrag'd wou'd affright you: Loud objects of awful surprize!

'Tis thus, when good humour diffuses Its beams o'er the face of a fair; With rapture his heart a man loses, While frowns turn love to despair.