To Chloe; In an Ill Humour

IN AN ILL HUMOUR .

Consider , sweet maid! and endeavour
To conquer that pride in thy breast;
It is not an haughty behaviour
Will set off thy charms to the best.

The ocean, when calm, may delight you;
But should a bold tempest arise,
The billows, enrag'd, wou'd affright you,
Loud objects of awful surprise.

'Tis thus when good humour diffuses
Its beams o'er the face of the fair;
With rapture his heart a man loses,
While frowns turn love to despair.