A POEM TO THE CHARMING FAIR ONE.  

I.  
HOw far of old (as Fame records)  
Did English Arms advance?  
Whilst Brittain's Kings, and British Swords  
Enslaved the vanquished France.   

II.  
But in one Conquering Ladies Eyes  
Heaven joins so many Charms;  
She all their want of Power supplies  
T'avenge their weaker Arm.   

III.  
By this one Beauty of their Land,  
They their lost Fame renew:  
Where the French Thunder's at a stand,  
Their Lightning does subdue.   

IV.  
Not Venus drawn by her own Doves  
Her Warlike God to meet,  
In so much splendid Triumph moves,  
Nor bears a state so Great.   

V.  
What Princes would not to possess  
This glorious prize conspire,  
Though like the beauteous Dame of Greece,  
She sets their Troy on Fire.   

VI  
Yet in her pomp this wretched Fair  
Is despicably vain;  
A shrine so bright without, did ne'er  
Inclose a soul so mean.   

VII.  
Rich in herself, yet as in Mines,  
Like slaves she toils for Oar,  
Poorly and servilely she pines  
T'exhaust the Royal store.   

VIII.  
For Her their pearl, the Fruitful Seas  
(Those Globes of brightness) mould;  
To her the Earth her Tribute pays,  
And teems with fatal Gold.   

IX.  
Thus Nature's Treasuries unlock,  
This Idol to adorn:  
And from the glittering Diamond-Rock,  
The crusted Gems are torn.   

X.  
With golden Rays thus round her head  
She spreads Love's wanton Nets:  
Sleeps like the Sun in's Western bed;  
In her own Indies sets.   

XI.  
Be frankly kind, and pay Love's Debt!  
Think thou'hast a King ensnared:  
The Glory of a prize so great,  
Does bring its own Reward.   

XII.  
The Thunderer wooed but once in Gold,  
His meanest shape could win,  
For still his humbled Dress did hold  
The Dazzling God within.   

XIII.  
For shame let no false Gems be worn,  
Be perfectly Divine;  
True Pride all borrowed Plumes should scorn  
And by'ts own Lustre shine.   
FINIS.