And darting Scorn, and Sorrow from her Eyes, What means, faid She, King SOLOMON the Wife?
This wretched Body trembles at your Pow'r: Thus far could Fortune: but She can no more. Free to her felf my potent Mind remains: Nor fears the Victor's Rage, nor feels his Chains.
"Tis faid, that Thou can'ft plausibly difpute, Supreme of Seers, of Angel, Man, and Brute; Can'ft plead, with subtil Wit and fair Discourse, Of Paffion's Folly, and of Reafon's Force. That to the Tribes attentive Thou can'ft show, Whence their Misfortunes, or their Bleffings flow. That Thou in Science, as in Pow'r art great; And Truth and Honour on Thy Edicts wait. Where is that Knowledge now, that Regal Thought, With just Advice, and timely Counsel fraught? Where now, O Judge of ISRAEL, does it rove What in one Moment doft Thou offer? Love ---- Love? why 'tis Joy or Sorrow, Peace or Strife: 'Tis all the Color of remaining Life:
And Human Mis'ry muft begin or end, As He becomes a Tyrant, or a Friend.
Ille pius fanctufque excelfi DAVIDIS Hæres Ancillam, Ignotamque, & facra aliena colentem, Ad fummi veneranda Tori faftigia ducet? Aut concede tuâ periiffe hæc nomina flammâ, Atque inftar lethi difcrimina tollere Amorem; Dum tamen indomitas mifero fub pectore vires Exercet, Tu fola Deum per vulnera fentis; Sæviet implacatus adhuc; frontem ufque feveram Contrahet, atra mei nifi vincant nubila Rifus.
Sponte fua furgens Amor, ut radicibus Arbos Partitis, gemino vires de pectore ducit,
Æqua utrinq; alimenta trahens; dum pectora flammas Utraque dant fimiles, & mutua gaudia miscent. Donec Spes foveat jucunda & læta Voluptas, Germina fe expandunt viridantia, prodiga multis Floribus, & circum fuaves funduntur odores. Pabula fin blanda hæc defint, hic mutuus ardor Deficiat; languet collapfo vertice Planta, Nudaque Spe, lento confecta dolore, recumbit.
Vi fævâ vin'clifque immitia corda ferarum Vincimus: expugnant Humanum Mollia pectus. Nil profecturas age fortiter exere vires,
Would DAVID'S Son, religious, just, and grave, To the first Bride-bed of the World receive A Foreigner, a Heathen, and a Slave?
Or grant, Thy Paffion has these Names deftroy'd; That Love, like Death, makes all Diftinction void; Yet in his Empire o'er Thy abject Breast, His Flames and Torments only are expreft: His Rage can in my Smiles alone relent; And all his Joys folicit my Consent.
Soft Love, fpontaneous Tree, it's parted Root Muft from two Hearts with equal Vigour shoot: Whilst each delighted, and delighting, gives The pleafing Ecftafy, which each receives: Cherish'd with Hope, and fed with Joy it grows: It's chearful Buds their opening Bloom disclose; And round the happy Soil diffufive Odor flows. If angry Fate that mutual Care denies; The fading Plant bewails it's due Supplies: Wild with Despair, or fick with Grief, it dies.
By Force Beafts act, and are by Force restrain'd: The Human Mind by gentle Means is gain'd. Thy useless Strength, mistaken King, employ:
Irâ animum fatians; nec inania gaudia fperes Virgine ab invitâ; fpolies licet invidus arva, Non meffem referes optatam. En! afpice regni Quam tibi fint arcti fines: Te torva tuentem Judæi metuant, patriâque superbus in Aulâ Se jactet SOLOMON: fed lætâ fronte petendus Mollis Amor; folium lentis accede verendum Paffibus; utque abeas felix, affuefce placere.
Nil tamen hic artes poterunt præftare placendi: Eft mihi, qui dudùm fibi me devinxit; amores Abftulit Ille meos: nec Juffa minæque feroces Abrumpent fœdus, patriis quod carus in oris Mecum iniit Juvenis: junxit data dextra viciffim Concordes; neque vana animos fiducia fallet. Ad fuperas arces fe mutua vota ferebant, Cælituumque Cohors libratam utrinque bilanci Spectavere fidem, lætùm plaudentibus alis, Fæderaque æternis fervârunt condita faftis.
Quin age, jam gladius præcordia tranfeat; aufer His oculis dudùm contemptæ munera lucis: Me moriente tui malefanos pectoris ignes Extinguas, fævæque odium immutabile Nymphæ;
Sated with Rage, and ignorant of Joy, Thou shalt not gain what I deny to yield; Nor reap the Harvest, tho' Thou spoil'ft the Field. Know, SOLOMON, Thy poor Extent of Sway; Contract thy Brow, and ISRAEL shall obey: But wilful Love Thou must with Smiles appease; Approach his awful Throne by just Degrees; And if Thou would'st be Happy, learn to please.
Nor that those Arts can here fuccefsful prove: For I am deftin'd to another's Love. Beyond the cruel Bounds of Thy Command, To my dear Equal, in my Native Land,
My plighted Vow I gave: I His receiv'd:
Each swore with Truth: with Pleasure each believ'd. The mutual Contract was to Heav'n convey'd :
In equal Scales the bufy Angels weigh'd
It's folemn Force, and clap'd their Wings, and spread The lafting Roll, recording what We said. ·
Now in my Heart behold Thy Poynard ftain'd: Take the fad Life which I have long difdain'd: End, in a dying Virgin's wretched Fate, Thy ill-ftarr'd Paffion, and My steadfast Hate.
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