[ 186 J} Thele things I hope, Sir, you will think weighty enough to redrefs with your ufual impartiality. I am, SIR, Your moft humble fervant, London, Dec. 7, HANSERIA. { Ne 73.) To CRUEL CHLOE ghtning aud thunderbolts I can defpife, But fall a victim to your conqu’ring eyes # Eyes! which by far more pow'rful darts create Than Venus or her black Cyclopian mates. Darts! which much fuver wounds impart than thofe That formerly were (hot from Parthian bows : Yet Parthian-like you run aud wound me too, With [peed you fly, but Kill as I purfue. Enough,[ 187 ] Enough, vittovious nymph, rhe day is thine, Congueft and life, and fortune I refign : No longer let me figh, and figh in vain, And to the rocks and winds, and waves complain, At once four different paffions rack my brenft, Diftca my foul, and rob my mind of reft. Now hope and joy, then fear and forrow reign, Sfuft like a fhip upon th’ inconftant main By adverfe winds and waves tofs’d to and fro: L cannot reft, yet know not where to go, And only know, I know not what to do. J Then Chloe, deareft Chloe, pity me! No longer exercife your cruelty ; And then fhould forms and tempefts ne’er give o'er, Should lightning always flafh and thunder roar ; No fui, no moor, o twinkling flav appear, No grateful change of feafons in the year, But hoary winter, like a tyrant king, Ufucp the thrones of fummer, autumn, Ipring ; In any frozen ifle Pd be courent (Wilf Chloe fmiles) to live ii banifbment. Smile,{ 188 ] Smile, Chloe, file : wo is me ! I faint, rave: Where 2? fhew me where? O! fhew me where's my grave? There PD embalm my urn with tears, and weep Til death o ertakes me with eternal fleep : For Chloe's ftill unkind 3 no tears can move Her cruel heart to pity or to love. CN° 74.] Mr. SrecTatTuR, HARD one of our fummer-gentry re- harfe thefe varfes with great fattisfac- tion. Cocquet I feorn, but I deteft a prude, One may be honeft, torher will be leud. I dont ask the meaning of thefe hard names, tho” they zay one ts ipocrit toards God, and tother toards the devil, (God blefs us!) nor why one may, and wherefore to- ther will ; but our Jandlady having two gals which will grow up gentlefolks, (and e being kind to my wife) I defire to know howT 189 ] how they may be difcreet and modeft, with- out being witty or ridiclous, I am Your loving freind, Near Bathe. Cotrn CLopHoPPER. P. S. Pray fave them, if poffible, from being witts, for they hereabouts are the vileft things in che varfall world. EN? 75.] Mr. Spectator, [sn now in the country, and reading in Spencer’s fairy-queen. Pray what is the matter with me ? when the poet is fublime my heart burns, when he is compaffionate J faint, when he is fedate my foul is becalm’d. This has provoked me to advife you (fince you have gone through Milton) to begin Spencer, and that you would give us a Sa- turday on every ftenza in the firft book ; and then that you would wait on the poet fo far in print, in a letter like your own face, fhort but confpicuous ; for I long to have the SpeGator upon Spencer bound in my pocket together. You fee my advice is like what