Oh Iris! boast that one peculiar Charm,
That has so many Conquests made;
So innocent, yet capable of Harm;
So just it self, yet has so oft betray’d:
Where a thousand Graces dwell,
And wanton round in ev’ry Smile.
A thousand Loves do listen when you speak,
And catch each Accent as it flies:
Rich flowing Wit, whene’er you Silence break,
Flows from your Tongue, and sparkles in your Eyes.
Whether you talk, or silent are,
Your Lips immortal Beauties wear.
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