Page:The Battle of the Books, and Other Short Pieces.djvu/123

  Pursue your trade of scandal picking, Your hints that Stella is no chicken. Your innuendoes when you tell us That Stella loves to talk with fellows; And let me warn you to believe A truth, for which your soul should grieve: That should you live to see the day When Stella's locks must all be grey, When age must print a furrowed trace On every feature of her face; Though you and all your senseless tribe, Could art, or time, or nature bribe To make you look like beauty's queen, And hold for ever at fifteen; No bloom of youth can ever blind The cracks and wrinkles of your mind; All men of sense will pass your door, And crowd to Stella's at fourscore.

STELLA'S BIRTHDAY

A great bottle of wine, long buried, being that day dug up. 1722

Resolved my annual verse to pay, By duty bound, on Stella's day;