As Venus sat mop'd, no Mars to divert her,
Her good Man asleep, whom she wished alerter;
'I'll e'en take a Ride, says she, put the Doves to;'
'Tis done, the young Cooers away with her flew,
And gambold the Air, as if proud of her Weight:
'To Vauxhall bend your Course, and wing me there strait;
'Jove bless me! who's this? it is Ceres, I swear,
'Or else Lady Dian by the Shade of her Air;
'Good-morrow, bright Venus! pray, whither so fast?
'Your Ladyship seems to be driving Post Haste;
'I am for Vauxhall, to Pomona the Fair,
'The Queen of the Spring-I'm inform'd, she lives there;
'My Dear! you're quite out, turn your Phaeton round,
'Her Court is at Ranelagh, thither I'm bound;
'Nay prithee, good Ceres! that can't be her home,
'Do you think that she'd live coop'd up in a Dome?
'Believe me, as soon as she'd sit on a Throne,
'Envelop'd all round with the Smoak of yon Town;
'But see! whom have we here, that drive's such a Rate?
'O! Juno, I know by her Peacocks and State;
'Shall she then decide? Yes-hail, Queen of the Sky!
'We've a little Dispute, dear Madam! draw nigh;
''Tis where Pomona resides? that's the Fracas,
'I say at Vauxhall, she insists Ranelagh.'
At which Juno smil'd, 'I thought you and Ceres,
'Had much better known, than deal in such Queries;
'When all the World grants, Kendal-House is the Place,
'Pomona the Queen of the Spring deigns to grace;
'In the Bower you'll find her, or else in the Groves,
'Where Linnets and Nightingales warble their Loves;
'Perhaps near the River's Meander she strays,
'Or by the Canal with Vertumnus she plays;
'Or else you will see her in Dance on the Green,
'With the Graces and Loves who encircle their Queen;
'To your Majesty Thanks! excuse further Stay,
'We'll e'en to her Court, where we'll spend a rich Day.'