ODE XI. Written on a blank leaf before the BASIA OF SECUNDUS

Armed with his lute thro' Paphian groves, Whose echoes the sweet airs delay, By the blyth Graces led and Loves, Behold the wanton poet stray. How potent to awake desire! How worthy of the ancient choir! How tuneful, how polite his lay!

Beware, beware, whoe'er thou art That would'st attend his flowery way: Beware, beware, if e'er thy heart Confessed the harm of Beauty's sway. So warm his raptures melt the mind, New flames in every verse we find, Neaera in each nymph essay.