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Jupiter And Fortune. - Poem by Mary Barber (Barber Mary)

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Once Jupiter, from out the Skies, Beheld a thousand Temples rise; The Goddess Fortune all invok'd, To Jove an Altar seldom smoak'd: The God resolv'd to make Inspection, What had occasion'd this Defection; And bid the Goddess tell the Arts, By which she won deluded Hearts. My Arts! (says she) Great Jove, you know, That I do ev'ry Thing below: I make my Vot'ries dine on Plate; I give the gilded Coach of State; Bestow the glitt'ring Gems, that deck The fair Lavinia's lovely Neck; I make Novella Nature's Boast, And raise Valeria to a Toast; 'Tis I, who give the Stupid, Taste, (Or make the Poets lie, at least); My fav'rite Sons, whene'er they please, Can Palaces in Desarts raise, Cut out Canals, make Fountains play, And make the dreary Waste look gay; Ev'n Vice seems Virtue by my Smiles; I gild the Villain's gloomy Wiles, Nay, almost raise him to a God, While crowded Levees wait his Nod. Enough--the Thunderer reply'd; But say, whom have you satisfy'd? These boasted Gifts are thine, I own; But know, Content is mine alone. Mary Barber

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