Song (“Long at thy Altar, God of Love”)

LONG at thy Altar, God of Love,
I paid a double Duty;
A Slave to Celia's Voice and Wit,
To Chloe's Taste and Beauty.

Fain would I fix my restless Heart,
While they, with awkward Feature,
Disguise in Affectation's Masque
The bounteous Gifts of Nature.

Celia, affecting Beauty's Grace,
Destroys her Sense and Spirit,
And Chloe's Charms, thro' fancy'd Wit,
Lose all their wonted Merit.

While in their native Beauties deckt,
I can love both,—or either,—
But thus in borrow'd Airs disguis'd,
I can be fond of neither.