C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

An Ode: ‘The merchant, to secure his treasure’

THE MERCHANT, to secure his treasure,

Conveys it in a borrowed name:

Euphelia serves to grace my measure,

But Chloe is my real flame.

My softest verse, my darling lyre,

Upon Euphelia’s toilet lay:

When Chloe noted her desire

That I should sing, that I should play,

My lyre I tune, my voice I raise;

But with my numbers mix my sighs:

And whilst I sing Euphelia’s praise,

I fix my soul on Chloe’s eyes.

Fair Chloe blushed; Euphelia frowned;

I sung and gazed; I played and trembled:

And Venus to the Loves around

Remarked, how ill we all dissembled.