Loath'd Muse! Hag of my rest, be gone! Who'rt Scandalous as Av'rice grown: Common as any _Whetstone_-Whore, Where Poets learn their Stage-Amour. Go jilt among thy Vot'ries there, And clap 'em with Poetick fire! Flie to some Rhymer of the Town, By his lean, hungry Visage known! That Renegado, whifling Blade, Who's not himself but when he's Mad! But 'tis not all thy _Syren_-charms Can again tempt me to thy Arms: For I too well thy Couz'nage know, Thy hollow Heart, and painted Brow. How first thou to my Brain did'st creep, And whil'st my Sense was lock'd in sleep, Thou did'st before my Fancy's Eye A thousand gaudy Fantasms lay. Then thorow false Perspectives show Groves, where gilded Lawrels grow. And ev'ry Tree's Ambrosiack Root With Arms of Nectar clasp'd about, In whose bright Streams I did espie Nine Naked Airy Ladies play: Some swimming on their Backs were seen, Who rise aloft, then dive agen; Whilst others yet more Am'rous grew,} And seem'd not only to bestow } Brimmers, but gave Embraces too. } And th' little Mansions where they dwell,} Were some of Gold, and some of Pearl, } Tyl'd and Pav'd with Tortoise-shell. } A hundred things as vain as these, Did once my partial Fancy please: But when I look'd about to know Whether they real were, or no; I apprehended the mistake, As Dreams of Pleasures when we 'wake. For when the crafty _Muses_ thought They'd me for a Disciple got; They took the painted Scene away; Lay'd down their Smiles and Flattery, And now in their own Shapes appear Rough, and Ghastly, as they are. Wherefore once more, Ladies adieu! Farewel to _England_, and to you. For I'm resolv'd; and now ev'n Gain Shan't draw me to yee back again. Tho' _Juno_ should assure me more, Than she did _Paris_ heretofore: Or _Venus_ too at the same time; I would not give 'em thanks in Rhyme. No, tho' should all of you agree To give your _Helicon_ to me. Tho' those dear Bays I once did woo, } Should strive to cling about my Brow;} Nay, thô they were gilded too. } I'ld thence those fruitless Branches tear, And throw 'em with my Muse in th' fire. So what she so long courted, shall At last adorn her Funeral.