SONG. (Oft had I laugh'd at female pow'r)

Oft had I laugh'd at female pow'r, And slighted Venus' chain— Then cheerful sped each fleeting hour, Unknown to eating pain;

By Stoic rules, severely taught, To scorn bright beauty's charms, Sage wisdom sway'd each rising thought, And woo'd me to her arms;

Till Sylvia, heav'nly Sylvia, came, Sweet pleasure play'd her round; Her lucid eyes snot forth a flame, That hardest hearts would wound.

Quick from my breast each bold resolve, In empty aether slew; My limbs in trembling bliss dissolve, All wet with chilling dew.

O charmer! cease that ardent gaze, Nor rob me of my rest; Such light'ning from those eye-lids plays, It burns my tortur'd breast.

Deluded swains, who, vainly proud, Assume gay freedom's air, And, boastful, scorn the prostrate crowd That sigh before the fair!

If once fair Sylvia you should meet, And view her heav'nly mien; To Love converted, at her feet, You'll hug the pleasing chain.