CEASE, vainest nymphs, with Celia to contend,
And let your envy and your folly end.
With her almighty charms when yours compare,
When your blind lovers think you half so fair,
Each Sarum ditch, like Helicon shall flow,
And Harnam Hill, like high Parnassus, glow;
The humble daisy, trod beneath our feet,
Shall be like lilies fair, like violets sweet;
Winter's black nights outshine the summer's noon,
And farthing candles shall eclipse the moon:
T—b-ld shall blaze with wit, sweet Pope be dull,
And German princes vie with the Mogul.
Cease, then, advis'd, O cease th' unequal war,
'Tis too much praise to be o'ercome by her.
With the sweet nine so the Pierians strove;
So poor Arachne with Minerva wove:
Till of their pride just punishment they share;
Those fly and chatter, and this hangs in air.
Unhappy nymphs! O may the powers above,
Those powers that form'd this second Queen of Love,
Lay all their wrathful thunderbolts aside,
And rather pity than avenge your pride;
Forbid it, heaven, you should bemoan too late
The sad Pierian's or Arachne's fate;
That hid in leaves, and perch'd upon a bough,
You should o'erlook those walks you walk in now;
The gen'rous maid's compassion, others joke,
Should chatter scandal which you once have spoke;
Or else in cobwebs hanging from the wall,
Should be condemn'd to overlook the ball:
To see, as now, victorious Celia reign,
Admir'd, ador'd, by each politer swain.
O shun a fate like this, be timely wise,
And if your glass be false, if blind your eyes,
Believe and own what all mankind aver,
And pay with them the tribute due to her.