A Prayer to Venus in her Temple at Stowe. To the Same. I. FAIR VENUS, whose delightful shrine surveys Its front reflected in the silver lake, These humble off'rings, which thy servant pays, Fresh flowers, and myrtle wreaths, propitious take. II. If less my love exceeds all other love, Than Lucy's charms all other charms excel, Far from my breast each soothing hope remove, And there let sad despair for ever dwell. III. But if my soul is fill'd with her alone, No other wish, nor other object knows, Oh! make her, Goddess, make her all my own, And give my trembling heart secure repose. IV. No watchful spies I ask to guard her charms, No walls of brass, no steel-defended door; Place her but once within my circling arms, Love's surest fort, and I will doubt no more.