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Weeping, in mine, fix'd her fair trembling hand, And through the closest pores a passage find,
And with these words I scarce could understand, Like that of light, to shine o'er all the mind.
Her passion in a dying voice express'd

The want of love does both extremes produce; Half, and her sighs, alas ! made out the rest. Maids are too nice, and inen as much too loose; Tis past; this pang - Nature gives o'er the While oqual good an amorous couple find, strife;

She makes him constant, and he makes her kind. Thou must thy mistress lose, and I my life.

New charms in vain a lover's faith would proves I die ; but dying thine, the Fates may prove

Hermits or bed-rid men they'll sooner move: Their conquest over me, but not my love: The fair inveigler will but sadly find Thy memory, my glory and my pain,

There's no such eunuch as a man in love. In spite of Death itself shall still remain.

But when by his chaste nymph embrac's, Dearest Orontes, my hard fate denies,

(For Love makes all embraces chaste) That hope is the last thing which in us dies: [fied, Then the transported creature can From my griev'd breast all those soft thoughts are Do wonders, and is more than man. And love survives it, though my hope is dead; Both Heaven and Earth would our desires confine; I yield my life, but keep my passion yet,

But yet in vain both Heaven and Earth combine, And can all thoughts, but of Orontes, quit.

Unless where Love blesses the great design. “ My fame increases as my strength decays ; Hymen makes fast the band, but Love the heart; Death, which puts out the light, the heat will He the fool's god, thou Nature's Hymen art; raise :

Whose laws, once broke, we are not held by force, That still remains, though I from hence remove; But the false breach itself is a divorce. I lose my lover, but I keep my love." (word,

For Love the miser will his gold despise, The sighs which sent forth that last tender ['p tow'rds the Heavens like a bright meteor soar'd; | Cautious the young, and complaisant the old,

The false grow faithful, and the foolish wise ; And the kind nymph, not yet bereft of charms, Fell cold and breathless in her lover's arms.

The cruel gentle, and the coward bold.

Thou glorious Sun within our souls, Goddess, who now my fate hast understood,

Whose influence so much controls; Spare but my tears, and freely take my blood :

Ev'n dull and heavy lumps of Love, Here let me end the story of my cares;

Quicken'd by thee, more lively move; My disrnal grief enough the rest declares.

And, if their heads but any substance hold, Judge thou, by all this misery display'd,

Love ripens all that dross into the purest gold. Whether Lought not to implore thy aid :

In Heaven's great work thy part is such,
Thus to survive, reproaches on me draws;
Never sad wishes had so just a cause.

That, master-like, thou giv'st the last great touch

To Heaven's own master-piece of man; Come then, my only hope ; in every place

And finishest what Nature but began : Thou visitest, men tremble at thy face,

Thy happy stroke can into softness bring And fear thy name: once let thy fatal hand

Reason, that rough and wrangling thing. Fall on a swain that does the blow demand.

From childhood upwards we decay,
Vouchsafe thy dart; I need not one of those,

And grow but greater children every day:
With which thou dost unwilling kings depose :
A welcome death the slightest wound can bring,

To Reason, how can we be said to rise?

So many cares attend the being wise, And free a Soul already on her wing.

'Tis rather falling down a precipice. Without thy aid, most miserable I

From Sense to Reason unimprov'd we move; Must ever wish, yet not obtain to die.

We only then advance, when Reason turns to Love.

Thou reigncst o'er our earthly gods;

Uncrown'd by thee, their other crowns are loads ; ODE ON LOVE.

One Beauty's smile their meanest courtier brings

Rather to pity than to envy kings; LET Others songs or satires write,

His fellow slaves he takes them now to be, Prorok'd by vanity or spite;

Favour'd by Love, perhaps, much less than he. My Muse a nobler cause shall move,

For Love, the timorous bashful maid To sound aloud the praise of Love:

Of nothing but denying is afraid ; That gentle, yet resistless heat,

For love she overcomes her shame, Which raises men to all things good and great : Forsakes her fortune, and forgets her fame; While other passions of the mind

Yet, if but with a constant lovor blest, To la brutality debase mankind, **,

Thanks Heaven for that, and never minds the rest. By Love we are above ourselves relin'd.

Love is the salt of life; a higher taste Oh, Love, thou trance divine! in which the Soul, Coclogr’d with worldly cares, may range without Those slighted favours which cold nymphs dispense,

It gives to pleasure, and then makes it last. control;

[can teach And, soaring to her Hearen, from thence inspir'd Defective both in metal and in measure,

Mere common counters of the sense, High mysteries, above poor Reason's feeble reach.

A lover's fancy coins into a treasure. To seak old age, Prudence some aid may prove, How vast the subject! what a boundless store And curb those appetites that faintly move; Of bright ideas, shining all before ! But wild, impetuous youth, is tard by nothing The Muse's sighs forbid me to give o'er ! less than Love.

But the kind god incites us various ways, Of men too rough for peace, too rude for arts, And now I find him all my ardour raise, Lore's power can penetrate the hardest hearts; llis precepts to perform, as well as praise VOL X.


LOVE'S SLAVERY, Grare fops my envy now beget,

Who did my pity move;
They, by the right of wanting wit,

Are free from cares of love.

Turks honour fools, because they are,

By that defect, secure
From slavery and toils of war,

Which all the rest endure.

So I, who suffer cold neglect

And wounds from Celia's eyes, Begin extremely to respect

These fools, that seem so wise.

ELEGY TO THE DUTCHESS OF RThou lovely slave to a rude husband's will, By Nature us'd so well, by him so ill! For all that grief we see your mind endure, Your glass presents you with a pleasing cure. Those maids you envy for their happier state, To have your form, would gladly have your fatę; And of like slavery each wife complains, Witho:t such beauty's help to bear her chaina Husbands like him we every where may sce; But where can we behold a wife like thee?

While to a tyrant you by fate are ty'd, By Love you tyrannize o'er all beside: Those eyes, though wecping, can no pity move; Worthy our grief! more worthy of our love! You, while so fair (do Fortune what she please) Can be no more in pain than we at ease; Unless, unsatisfied with all our vows, Your vain ambition so unbounded grows, That you repine a husband should escape Th’united force of such a face and shape. If so, alas! for all those charming powers, Your case is just as desperate as ours. Expect that birds should only sing to you, And, as you walk, that ev'ry tree should bow; Expect those statues, as you pass, should burn; And that with wonder men should statues turn; Such beauty is enough to give things life, But not to make a husband love his wife : A husband, worse than statues, or than trees; Colder than those, less sensible than these. Then from so dull a care your thoughts remove, And waste not sighs you only owe to Love. 'Tis pity, sighs from such a breast should part, Unless to ease some doubtful lover's heart; Who dies, because he must too justly prize What yet the dull possessor does despise. Thus precious jewels among Indians grow, Who nor their use, nor wondrous value, know; But we, for those bright treasures, tempt the main, And hazard life for what the fools disdain.

"Tis true, they fondly set their hearts

On things of no delight;
To pass all day for men of parts,

They pass alone the night,
But Celia never breaks their rest;

Such servants she disdains;
And so the fops are duly blest,

While I endure her chains.

THE DREAM, Ready to throw me at the feet

Of that fair nymph whom I adore, Impatient those delights to meet

Which I enjoy'd the night before ; By her wonted scornful brow,

Soon the fond mistake I find; Ixion mourn'd his errour so,

When Juno's form the cloud resign'd,

Sleep, to make its charms more priz'd

Than waking joys, which most prevail, Had cunningly itself disguis'd

In a shape that could not fail,

There my Celia's snowy arins,

Brrasts, and other parts more dear, Exposing new and unknown charms,

To my transported soul appear.

A LETTER FROM SEA. Fairest, if time and absence can incline Your heart to wandering thoughts no more than

mine; Then shall my hand, as changeless as my mind, From your glad eyes a kindly welcome find; Then, while this note my constancy assures, You'll be almost as pleas'd, as I with yours. And trust me, when I feel that kind relief, Absence itself awile suspends its grief: So may it do with you, but strait return; For it were cruel not sometimes to mourn His fate, who, this long time he keeps away, Mourns all the night, and sighs out all the day; Grieving yet more, when he reflects, that you Must not be happy, or must not be true. But since to me it seems a blacker fate To be inconstant, than unfortunate; Remember all those vows between us past, When I from all I value parted last; May you alike with kind impatience burn; And somethink miss, till I with joy return; And soon may pitying Hearen that blessing give, As in the hopes of that alone I live.

Then you so much kindness show,

My despair deluded fies; And indulgent dreams bestow

What your cruelty denies. Blush nat that your image Love

Naked to my fancy brought ; 'Tis hard, methinks, to disapprove

The joys I feel without your fault. Wonder not a fancy'd bliss

Can such griefs as mine remove; That honour as fantastic is,

Which makes you slight such constant love, The virtue which you value so,

Is but a fancy frail and vain; Nothing is solid here below,

Except my love and your disdain,


A heart by kindness only gain'd,

Will a dear conquest prove; BEING TOO SENSUAL IN HIS LOVE.

And, to be kept, must be maintain'd

At vast expense of love.
Think not, my fair, 'tis sin or shame,

To bless the man who so adores;
Nor give so hard, unjust a name
To all those favours he implores,

THE VENTURE. Beauty is Heaven's most bounteous gift esteem'd,

Oh, how I languish! what a strange Because by love men are from vice redeem’d.

Unruly fierce desire! Yet wish not vainly for a love

My spirits feel some wondrous change, From all the force of nature clear;

My heart is all on fire.
That is reserv'd for those above,
And 'tis a fault to claim it here.

Now, all ye wiser thoughts, away,
For sensual joys ye scorn that we should love ye,

In vain your tale ye tell But love, without them, is as much above ye,

Of patient hopes, and dull delay,

Love's foppish part; farewell.
Suppose one week's delay would give

All that my wishes inove;

Who, who so long a time can live,
Lorers, who waste your thoughts and youth

Stretch'd on the rack of Love? In passion's fond extremes,

Her soul, perhaps, is too sublime, Whoiream of women's love and truth,

To like such slavish fear; And doat upon your dreams:

Discretion, prudence, all is crime, I should not here your fancy take

If once condemn'd by her. From such a pleasing state,

When honour does the soldier call Were you not sure at last to wake,

To some unequal fight, And find your fault too late.

Resolv'd to conquer, or to fall, Then learn, betimes, the love which crowns

Before his general's sight; Our cares is all but wiles,

Advanc'd the happy hero lives; Compos'd of false fantastic frowns,

Or, if ill Fate denies, And soft dissembling smiles.

The noble rashness Heaven forgives, With anger, which sometimes they feign,

And gloriously he dies.
They cruel tyrants prove;
And then turn flatterers again,
With as affected love.

INCONSTANCY EXCUSED. As if some injury was meant

To those they kindly us’d, Those lovers are the most content


MUST confess, I am untrue That have been still refus'd.

To Gloriana's eyes ;

But he that's smild upon by you, Since each has in his bosom nurst

Must all the world despise. A false and fawning foe, 'Tis just and wise, by striking first,

In winter, fires of little worth
To 'scape the fatal blow.

Excite our dull desire;
But when the Sun breaks kindly forth,

Those fainter ilames expire.

Then blame me not for slighting now TO AMORETTA.

What I did once adore ; Wues I held out against your eyes,

0, do but this one change allow, You took the surest course

And I can change no more: A heart unwary to surprise,

Fixt by your never-failing charms, You ne'er could take by force,

Till I with age decay, However, though I strive no more,

Till languishing within your arms, The fort will now be priz'd,

I sigh my soul away. Which, if surrender'd up before,

Perhaps had been despis'd. Bat, gentle Amaretta, though

SONG, I cannot love resist,

On, conceal that charming creature Think not, when you have caught me so,

From my wondering, wishing eyes! To use me as you list.

Every motion, every feature, Inconstancy or coldness will

Does some ravish'd heart surprise ; My foolish heast reclaim:

But, oh! I sighing, sighing, see Then I come off with honour still,

The happy swain! she ne'er can be But you, alas! with shame.

False to him, or kind to me,


Yet, if I could humbly show her,

Had I at distance only seen Ah' how wretched I remain;

That lovely face, I might have been 'Tis not, sure a thing below her,

With the delightful object pleas'd, Still to pity so much pain.

But not with all this passion seiz'd. The gods some pleasure, pleasure take,

When afterwards so near I came Happy as themselves to make

As to be scorch'd in Beauty's flame; Those who suffer for their sake.

To so much softness, so much sense, ,

Reason itself made no defence. Since your hand alone was given

What pleasing thoughts possessid my mind, To a wretch not worth your care ;

When litile favours show'd you kind! Like some angel sent from Heaven,

And though, when coldness oft prevailid, Come, and raise me from despair.

My heart would sink, and spirits fail'd, Your heart I cannot, cannot iniss,

Yet willingly the yoke I bore, And I desire no other bliss;

And all your chains as bracelets wore :
Let all the world besides be his.

At your lov'd feet all day would lie,
Desiring, without knowing why;
For, not yet blest within your arms,

Who could have thought of half your charms?

Charms of such a wondrous kind, Alt hopeless of relief,

Words we cannot, must not find, Incapable of rest,

A body worthy of your mind. In vain I'strive to vent a grief

Fancy could ne'er so high reflect, That's not to be exprest.

Nor love itself such joys expect

After such embraces past, This rage within my veins

Whose memory will ever last, No reason can remove;

Love is still relecting back ; Of all the mind's most oruel pains,

All my soul is on a rack : The sharpest, sure, is love.

To be in Hell's sufficient curse, Yet while I languish so,

But to fall from Heaven is worse. And on thee vainly call;

I liv'd in grief ere this I knew, Take heed, fair cause of all my woe,

But then I dwelt in darkness too. What fate may thee befall.

Of gains alas! I could not boast;

But little thought how much I lost. Ungrateful, cruel faults

Now heart-devouring eagerness, Suit not thy gentle sex ;

And sharp impatience to possess; Hereafter, how will guilty thoughts

Now restless cares, consuming fires, Thy tender conscience vex!

Anxious thoughts, and fierce desires, When welcome Death shall bring

Tear my heart to that degree, Relief to wretched me,

For ever fix'd on only thee: My soul enlarg'd, and once on wing,

Then all my comfort is, I shall In haste will fly to thee.

Live in thy aruns, or not at all. When in thy lonely bed

My ghost its moan shall make,
With saddest signs that I am dead,
And dead for thy dear sake;

Struck with that conscious blow,
Thy very soul will start:

Come, let us now resolve at last
Pale as my shadow thou wilt grow,

To live and love in quiet ; And cold as is thy heart.

We'll tie the knot so very fast,

That Time shall ne'er untie it.
Too late remorse will then
Untimely pity show

The truest joys they seldom prove,
To him, who, of all mortal men,

Who free from quarrels live; Did most thy value know.

'Tis the most tender part of love,

Each other to forgive. Yet, with this broken heart,

When least I seem'd concern'd, I took I wish thou never be

No pleasure, por no rest; Tormented with the thousandth part

And when I feign'd an angry look,
Of what I feel for thee.

Alas! I loy'd you best.
Own but the same to me, you'll find

How blest will be our fate;
ON APPREHENSION OF LOSING Oh, to be happy, to be kind,

Sure never is too late.


Sure I of all men am the first
That ever was by kindness curst,
Who must my only bliss bemoan,
And am by happiness undone.

From all uneasy passions free,
Revenge, ambition, jealousy,

Contented I had been too blest,

If once again my vows displease, If love and you had let me rest:

There never was so lost a lover; Yet that dull life l now despise;

In love, that languishing disease,
Safe from your eyes,

A sad relapse we ne'er recover.
I fear'd no grief, but then I found no joys.
Amidst a thousand kind desires,
Which Beauty moves, and love inspires ;

Such pangs I feel of tender fear,
Nu heart so soft as mine can bear:

Siching and languishing I lay,
Yet I'll defy the worst of harnis ;

A stranger grown to all deligbt, Such are your charms,

Passing with tedious thoughts the day, 'Tis worth a life to dic within your arms.

And with unquiet dreams the night.
For your dear sake, my only care

Was how my fatal love to hide;

For ever drooping with despair,

Neglecting all the world beside : From wars and plagues come no such harms,

Till, like some angel from above, As from a nymph so full of charms,

Comelia came to my relief ; So much sweetness in her face,

And then I found the joys of love
In her motions such a grace,

Can make amends for all the grief.
In her kind inviting eyes
Such a soft enchantment lies,

Those pleasing hopes I now pursue
That we please ourselves too soon,

Might fail if you could prove unjust; And are with empty hopes undone.

But promises from Heaven and you, After all her softness, we

Who is so impious to mistrust? Are but slaves, while she is free;

Here all my doubts and troubles end, Free, alas! from all desire,

One tender word my soul assures ; Except to set the world on fire.

Nor am I vain, since I depend
Thou, fair dissembler, dost but thus

Not on my own desert, but yours.
Deceive thyself, as well as us.
Like a restless monarch, thou
Wouldst rather force mankind to bow,
And venture round the world to roam,

Then govern peaceably at home.
But trust me, Celia, trust me, when

Dejected, as true converts die,
Apollo's self inspires my pen,

But yet with fervent thoughts inflam'd, One hour of love's delight outweighs

So, fairest! at your feet I lie, Whole years of universal praise ;

Of all my sex's faults asham'd. And one adorer, kindly us'd,

Too long, alas! bave I abus'd Gives truer joys than crowds refus'd.

Love's innocent and sacred flame, For what does youth and beauty serve?

And that divinest power have us'd
Why more than all your sex deserve ?

To laugh at, as an idle name.
Why such soft alluring arts
To charm our eyes, and melt our hearts?

But since so freely I confess
By our loss you nothing gain :

A crime which may your scorn proluce, Unless you love, you please in vain.

Allow me now to make it less

By any just and fair excuse.
I then did vulgar joys pursue,

Variety was all my bliss ;

But ignorant of love and you,
Lise children in a starry night,

How could I choose but do amiss ? When I beheld those eyes before,

If ever now my wandering eyes I gaz'd with wonder and delight,

Seek out amusements as before; Insensible of all their power.

If e'er I look, but to despise I play'd about the flame so long,

Such charms, and value yours the more ; At last I felt the scorching fire;

May sad remorse, and guilty shame, My hopes were weak, my passion strong,

Revenge your wrongs on faithless me; And I lay dying with desire.

And, what I tremble even to name,
By all the helps of human art,

May I lose all in losing thee!
I just recover'd so much sense,
As to avoid, with beavy heart,
The fais, but fatal, influence.

But, since you shine away despair,

IN IMITATION OF ANACREOX. And now my sighs no longer shun, Xo Persian in his zealous prayer


Hou flatterer of all the fair, So auch adores the rising Sun.

Come with all your skill and care;

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