_I would no Usurper be,_ _But in claiming sacred Thee._ _I would have all, and every part;_ _No Thought would hide within thy Heart._ _Mine a Cabinet was made,_ _Where_ Iris’ _Secrets should be laid._ _In the rest, without controul,_ _She should triumph o’er the Soul!_ _Prostrate at her Feet I’d lie,_ _Despising Power and Liberty;_ _Glorying more by Love to fall,_ _Than rule the universal Ball._ _Hear me, O you saucy Youth!_ _And from my Maxims learn this Truth:_ _Would you great and powerful prove?_ _Be an humble Slave to Love._ _’.is nobler far a Joy to give,_ _Than any Blessing to receive._ The _LADY’S_ LOOKING-GLASS, to Dress her self by: or, The Art of Charming. _Sent from_ DAMON _to_ IRIS. How long, Oh charming _Iris_! shall I speak in vain of your adorable Beauty? You have been just, and believe I love you with a Passion perfectly tender and extreme, and yet you will not allow your Charms to be infinite. You must either accuse my Flames to be unreasonable, and that my Eyes and Heart are false Judges of Wit and Beauty; or allow that you are the most perfect of your Sex. But instead of that, you always accuse me of Flattery, when I speak of your infinite Merit; and when I refer you to your Glass, you tell me, that flatters as well as _Damon_: tho’ one would imagine, that should be a good Witness for the Truth of what I say, and undeceive you of the Opinion of my Injustice. Look--and confirm your self that nothing can equal your Perfections. All the World says it, and you must doubt it no longer. Oh _Iris_! will you dispute against the whole World? But since you have so long distrusted your own Glass, I have here presented you with one, which I know is very true; and having been made for you only, can serve only you. All other Glasses present all Objects, but this reflects only _Iris_: Whenever you consult it, it will convince you; and tell you how much Right I have done you, when I told you, you were the fairest Person that ever Nature made. When other Beauties look into it, it will speak to all the Fair Ones: but let ‘em do what they will, ‘twill say nothing to their advantage. Iris, _to spare what you call Flattery,_ _Consult your Glass each Hour of the Day:_ _’.will tell you where your Charms and Beauties lie,_ _And where your little wanton Graces play:_ _Where Love does revel in your Face and Eyes;_ _What Look invites your Slaves, and what denies._ _Where all the_ Loves _adorn you with such Care,_ _Where dress your Smiles, where arm your lovely Eyes;_ _Where deck the flowing Tresses of your Hair:_ _How cause your snowy Breasts to fall and rise._ _How this severe Glance makes a Lover die;_ _How that, more soft, gives Immortality._