The Judgment of Venus

WHEN Kneller's Works of various Grace,
Were to fair Venus shown,
The Goddess spy'd in every Face
Some Features of Her own.

Just so, (and pointing with her Hand)
So shone, says she, my Eyes,
When from Two Goddesses I gain'd
An Apple for a Prize.

When in the Glass and River too,
My Face I lately view'd.
Such was I, if the Glass be true.
If true the Chrystal Flood.

In Colours of this glorious kind
Apelles painted me ;
My Hair thus flowing with the Wind,
Sprung from my Native Sea.

Like this, disorder'd, wild, forlorn,
Big with Ten Thousand Fears,
Thee, my Adonis, did I mourn,
Ev'n Beautiful in Tears.

But viewing Myra plac'd apart,
I fear, says she, I fear
Apelles, that Sir Godfrey's Art
Has far surpass'd Thine here.

Or I, a Goddess of the Skies,
By Myra am outdone.
And must resign to her the Prize,
The Apple, which I won.

But soon as she had Myra seen
Majestically Fair,
The sparkling Eye, the Look serene,
The gay and easy Air.

With Fiery Emulation fill'd,
The wond'ring Goddess cry'd,
Apelles, must to Kneller yield.
Or Venus, must to HYDE.