Urania only lik'd the Choice ;
Yet not to thwart the publick Voice,
She whisp'ring did impart:
They need no Foreign Aid invoke,
No help to draw a moving Stroke,
Who dictate from the Heart.
Enough ! the pleas'd Ardelia cry'd ;
And slighting ev'ry Muse beside,80
Consulting now her Breast,
Perceiv'd that ev'ry tender Thought,
Which from abroad she'd vainly sought,
Did there in Silence rest:
And shou'd unmov'd that Post maintain,
Till in his quick Return again,
Met in some neighb'ring Grove,
(Where Vice nor Vanity appear)
Her Flavio them alone might hear,
In all the Sounds of Love. 90
For since the World do's so despise
Hymen's Endearments and its Ties,
They shou'd mysterious be ;
Till We that Pleasure too possess
(Which makes their fancy'd Happiness)
Of stollen Secrecy.
A LETTER TO THE SAME PERSON
Sure of Success, to You I boldly write
Whilst Love do's ev'ry tender Line endite;
Love, who is justly President of Verse,
Which all his Servants write, or else rehearse.
Phœbus (howe'er mistaken Poets dream)
