Who hates the happy, aims his darts at thee,
But aims in vain; thy favour'd daughter lies,
Serenely blest, and shall to joy arise.
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For, grant that curses on her name shall wait,
(So envy wills and such the voice of fate,)
Yet, if that name be prudently suppress'd,
She shall be courted, favour'd, and caress'd.
"For what are names? and where agree mankind
In those to persons or to acts assign'd?