Song of Venus
Fairest Isle, all Isles Excelling,
Seat of Pleasures, and of Loves;
Venus here, will chuse her Dwelling,
And forsake her Cyprian Groves.
Cupid, from his Fav'rite Nation,
Care and Envy will Remove;
Jealousie that poysons Passion,
And Despair that dies for Love.
Gentle Murmurs, sweet Complaining,
Sighs that blow the Fire of Love;
Soft Repulses, kind Disdaining,
Shall be all the Pains you prove.
Ev'ry Swain shall pay his Duty,
Grateful every Nymph shall prove;
And as these Excel in Beauty,
Those shall be Renown'd for Love.
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