She flept, in murm'ring Gruntlings they
Complaining of the fcorching Day,
Her flumbers thus infpire.
She dreamt, while fhe with careful pains
Her fnowy Arms employ'd,
In Ivory Pails, to fill out Grains,
One of her Love-convicted Swains
Thus hafting to her, cry'd;
Fly Nymth! Oh fly! e're 'tis too late,
A dear-lov'd Life to fave;
Refcue your Bofom-Pig from Fate,
Who now expires, hung in the Gate
That leads to yonder Cave.
My felf had try'd to fet him free,
Rather than brought the News,
But I am fo abhorr'd by thee,
That ev❜n the Darlings Life from me
I know thou wou'dft refuse.
Struck with the News, as quick the flies
As Blushes to her Face;
Not the bright Lightning from the Skies,
No love fhot from her bright Eyes,
Move half fo fwifa pace.
This Plot it feems the Luftful Slave
Had laid against her Honour,
Which not one God took care to fave,-
For he purfues her to the Cave,
And throws himself upon her.
Now pierced is her Virgin Zone,
She feels the Foe within it,
She hears a broken Am'rous Groan,
The panting Lover's fainting Moan,
Juft in the happy Minute.
Frighted the wakes, and waking Friggs,
Nature thus kindly eas'd;
In Dreams rais'd by her murm'ring Piggs,
And her own Thumb between her Leggs,
She innocent and pleas'd.
Ive me leave to raile at you,
I ask nothing but my due;
To call you falfe, and then to fay,
You fhall not keep my Heart a Day.
But alas! against my will,
I must be your Captive ftill:
Ah! be kinder then, for I
Cannot change, and would not Die.
Kindness has refiftlefs Charms,
All befides but weakly move,
Fierceft Anger it difarms,
And clips the Wings of flying Love.
Beauty do's the Heart invade,
Kindness only can perfuade;
It gilds the Lover's fervile Chain,
And makes the Saint grow pleas'd again.
Othing adds to your fond Fire
More than Scorn, and cold Difdain
I, to cherish your Defire,
Kindness us'd, but 'twas in vain.
You infulted on your Slave,
Humble Love you foon refus'd,
Hope not then a Pow'r to have
Which ingloriofly you us'd.
Think not Thirfis, I will e're
By my Love iny Empire lofe;
You grow conftant through Defpair,
Love return'd you wou'd abuse.
Though you ftill poffefs my Heart,
Scorn and Rigour I muft feign.
Ah! forgive that only Art
Love has left you Love to gain.
You that cou'd my Heart fubdue,
To new Conquefts ne're pretend,
Let your Example make me true,
And of a Conquer'd Foe a Friend:
Then if e're I thou'd complain
Of your Empire, or my Chain,
Sammon all your pow'rful Charms,
And fell the Rebel in your Arms.
Hillis, be gentler I advise,
Make up for time mifpent,
When Beauty on its Death-bed lies,
'Tis high time to Repent.
Such is the Malice of your Fate,
That makes you old so soon,
Your Pleasure ever comes to late,
How early e're begun.
Think what a wretched thing is fhe
Whofe Stars contrive in fpight,
The Morning of her Love fhou'd be,
Her Fading Beauties Night.
Then if to make your Ruin more,
You'll Peevishly be Coy,
of
Dye with the Scand Coy,`
And never know the Joy.
Hat Cruel Pains Corinna takes,
WH To force that harmless frown,
When not a Charm her Face forfakes,
Love cannot lofe his own.
So fweet a Face, fo foft a Heart,
Such Eyes to very kind,
Betrays, alas! the filly Art,
Virtue had ill defign'd.
Poor feeble Tyrant, who in vain
Wou'd proudly take upon her,
Again kind Nature, to maintain
Affected Rules of Honour.
The scorn fhe bears to helpless proves,
When I plead paffion to her,
That much fhe fears, but more fhe loves,
Her Vafal fhou'd undo her.
Womans Honour.
OVE bad me hope, and I obey'd,
Phillis continu'd still unkind;
Then you may e'ne defpair he faid,
In vain Iftrive to change her Mind.
Honour's got in and keeps her Heart,
Durft he but venture once abroad;
In my own right I'd take your part,
And fhew my self the mightier God.
This huffing Honour domineers,
In Breafts alone, where he has place;
But if true gen'roùs Love appears,
The Hedor dares not fhew his Face.
Let me still languish and complain,
Be most unhumanly deny'd,
I have fome pleasure in my pain,
She can have none with all her Pride.
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