Poetical recreations consisting of original poems, songs, odes, &c. with several new translations : in two parts
Barker, Jane.
Page  95


WIthin a Virgins Bosom of Fifteen,
The God of Love doth place his Magazeen:
Hoards up his treasure, all his pow'rfull Charms;
Her Breasts his Quiver, and his Bow her Arms.
Beauty sits then triumphant on her brow,
She doth command the World, all Mortals bow,
And worship at the Altars of her Eyes;
She seems a Goddess, and Men Idolize.
At these years Nature hath perform'd her part,
And leaves the rest to be improv'd by Art;
Which with such skill is manag'd ive years more,
Each day fresh Glories add to th' former store.
The motion of the Body, rich attire,
Obliging look, kind language; all conspire
To catch poor Man, and set his Heart on fire.
Page  96During this harvest, they may pick and choose;
But have a care, fair Virgins, lest you lose
Th' advantage which this happy season yields:
Cold Winter-frosts will nip your blooming Fields,
Wither your Roses, make your Lillies dye,
And quench the scorching Flambeau of your Eye.
For when the clock of Age has Thirty told,
And never Man yet touch'd your Copy-hold,
A sudden alteration then you'll find,
Both in your state of Body, and of Mind:
You then shall pine, for what you now do slight;
Fret inwardly all day, and cry all night;
Devour the Sheets with folded Arms, complain,
And wish you had him there, but wish in vain.
Then in your Thoughts insipid pleasures steal,
And on lean Fancy make a hungry meal.
Your Bodies too will with your Minds decay;
As those grow crais'd, so these will wast away.
All nauseous food your Appetites will please,
And nourish indigested Crudities.
When once your Mind's disturb'd, Nature begins
To furl her Trophies up in wrinkled Skins.
Who can expect the Body e'er shou'd thrive,
And lack its natural preservative?
Page  97VVanting due seasoning, all flesh will taint;
'Tis Man preserves Complexion more than Paint;
So high a Cordial he doth prepare,
In Natures Limbeck, if apply'd with care,
It will perform the very work of Fate;
Not only Life preserve, but Life create.
Be wise in time, lest you too late repent,
And by some prudent choice those ills prevent:
Get a brisk Consort to supply your want,
But let him be a Husband, no Gallant.
There lies much virtue in a Levite's Spell;
But more in th' active part, performing well;
There's the intrinsick worth, the charming bliss,
That do's conveigh your Souls to Paradise;
'Twill make you dye with a delightfull pain,
And with like ecstasie revive again.
Part with that Virgin Toy, while in the prime,
The Fruit will rot o'th' Tree, not took in time.
But if you will continue proud and coy,
And slight those Men who court you to enjoy;
Here you in wretched Ignorance shall dwell,
And may deservedly lead Apes in Hell.