| Fuess and Stearns, comps. The Little Book of Society Verse. 1922. | | | | The Merchant | | By Matthew Prior |
| | | THE MERCHANT, to secure his treasure, | |
| Conveys it in a borrow’d name: | |
| Euphelia serves to grace my measure; | |
| But Chloe is my real flame. | |
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| My softest verse, my darling lyre, | 5 |
| Upon Euphelia’s toilet lay; | |
| When Chloe noted her desire, | |
| That I should sing, that I should play. | |
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| My lyre I tune, my voice I raise; | |
| But whilst my numbers mix my sighs: | 10 |
| And whilst I sing Euphelia’s praise, | |
| I fix my soul on Chloe’s eyes. | |
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| Fair Chloe blush’d: Euphelia frown’d: | |
| I sung and gazed: I play’d and trembled: | |
| And Venus to the Loves around | 15 |
| Remark’d, how ill we all dissembled. | | | | |
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