In quiet Shades, content with rural Sports,
Give me a Life, remote from guilty Courts,
Where free from Hopes, or Fears, in humble Ease
Unheard of I may live and die in Peace.
Happy the Man who thus retir'd from Sight,
Studies himself, and seeks no other Light;
But most unhappy he, who fits on high,
Expos'd to ev'ry Tongue, and ev'ry Eye,
Whose Follies, blaz'd about, to all are known,
And are a Secret to himself alone:
Worse is an evil Fame, much worse than none.

CHLOE's the Wonder of her Sex,
'Tis well her Heart is tender;
How might such killing Eyes perplex,
With Virtue to defend her!

But Nature, graciously inclin'd,
Not bent to vex but please us,
Has to her boundless Beauty join'd
A boundless Will to ease us.