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THE TRIUMPHS


Superior still in features as in form,
With admiration fluh'd, with pleasure warm,
The gay Serena every eye allur'd;
The hearts her figure won her face secur'd:
A tender sweetness still the nymph maintain'd,
And Modesty o'er all her graces reign'd.
Well might her soul to brilliant hopes incline,
A thousand youths had call'd her charms divine;
A thousand friends had whisper'd in her ear,
That fate had mark'd her for the festive peer.
Her youthful fancy, tho' by pomp amus'd,
Wish'd not those offers which her heart refus'd:
That tender heart, by no vain pride possest,
With indecisive trembling shook her breast,
Like a young bird, that, fluttering in the air,
Wishes to build her nest, yet knows not where.
The busy earl, his puny love to raise,
Hunted the circling whisper of her praise;
Heard Envy own her lovely charms, tho' loth,
Heard Taste attest them with a modish oath;