Suo rubore rofea; & Innocentia Cadente purior nîve ; Aderit Amor, Rifus, Voluptas, Gaudium, Et litium fugax Quies; Aderit labella comprimens Taciturnitas, Et omnis eventus memor Prudentia, Divefque rerum Industria. Accedet his virtutibus pia Humilitas, Regina Gratiarum aderit Humanitas, Paucifque notam infamiam; Memor, invidi rumoris ut malignitas Inimicat urbes & domos. FA With her bright Innocence fhall go, Quiet that far from quarrels flies; Mirth and Pleasure, Love and Joys; Firm Faith that plighted Promise keeps, Patient to bear to pardon free, If erring Nature chance to fail, Who hates low-whisper'd spight conceal'd, Scandal yet to few reveal'd; Since Envy makes with rumour'd Lies Friends and Brethren Enemies. Good Famulabitur caftum intuens Modeftia, Et docta cultu Vrbanitas; Et advenis præfens domi Hofpitalitas, Aperta vultus & manum. His cum fodalibus Meliffa Gratiis Fidelis, agrum quicquid aut lætabile eft, Et vera tecum particeps: Solando que curarum amara leniat, Fruendo que felicitates augeat, Et quæ novis addat novas. Irrupta copula hifce continebitur, His vinculis firmabitur, Validis ab annis ad fenectam, fi tuæ Meliffa fit vita comes; Quam, Marce, cùm ducetur uxor, elige Menfæque confortem & tori. Good-Breeding fhall her Handmaid be, Hospitality displays. If e'er Melissa grace your Home, These Attendants with her come. Whate'er can good or ill befall Faithful Partner fhe of all. Whose Wisdom teaching well to bear, Whose Joy, if profp'rous Fate you meet, These Ties will nuptial Love engage, If e'er Melissa, lovely Spouse! Life's Companion! crown your Vows. Such, fuch a Confort chufe to wed, Worthy of your Board and Bed. The The LOVE R. Y, deareft Clio, have you never seen, SAY Never obferv'd the Lover by the Mien? The Body wrap up in a gentle Trance, The Step imperfect, and the flow Advance, The languid Look, the fweetly-melting Eye, And faintly now and then the rifing Sigh; Still by your Side, for ever in your Way, And always wanting some soft thing to say, With fault'ring Accent, and with Words half told, And the fwoln Bofom burning to unfold; 'Till many tender Hours the Paffion prove, And flowly melt it to familiar Love. Say, dearest Clio, ever-charming Fair! Sighing I ask you, is not fuch my Air? And are not all Men fuch, when you they fee? Surely they are, All Lovers are like me, |