’Tis Venus Queen of Beauty’s Sphere,
In all her Charms she stands confest,
And rules supreme the noblest Breast.
Ye Shepherds would ye learn the Name
Of her who spreads so vast a Flame,
Know that ’tis hid from the Prophane;
And that your strictest Search is Vain.
In a Window of the Great Room at Scarborough.
What strange Vicissitudes we see
In Pleasure, as in Realms take Place