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Draw me such a shape and face,
If from the glorious height he falls, As your flattery would disgrace.
He greatly daring dies; Wish not that she would appear,
Or mounting where bright beauty calls, 'Tis well for you she is not here:
An empire is the prize.
LY perhaps dull crowds admire; That never sung of Celia's praise;
But I, alas! am all on fire. And those few that are behind
Like him who thought in childhood past I shall blest or wretched find,
That dire disease which kill'd at last, Only just as she is kind.
I dw'st have sworn I lov'd before, With her tempting eyes begin,
And fancy'd all the danger o'er; Eyes that would draw angels in
Had felt the pangs of jealous pain, To a second sweeter sin.
And borne the blasts of cold disdain; Oh, those wanton rolling eyes!
Then reap'd at length the mighty gains, At each glance a lover dies :
That full reward of all our pains ! Make them bright, yet make them willing,
But what was all such grief or joy, Let them look both kind and killing.
That did my heedless ears employ? Next, draw her forehead; then her nose,
Mere dreams of feigu'd fantastic powers, And lips just opening, that disclose
But the disease of idle hours; Teeth so bright, and breath so sweet,
Amusement, humour, affectation, So much beauty, so much wit,
Compar'd with this sublimer passion, To our very soul they strike,
Whose raptures, bright as those above, All our senses pleas'd alike.
Outshine the flames of zeal or love. But so pure a white and red,
Yet think not, fairest, what I sing Never, never, can be said :
Can from a love platonic spring, What are words in such a case ?
That formal softness (false and vain) What is paint to such a face?
Not of the heart, but of the brain. How should either art avail us?
Thou art indeed above all nature; Fancy here itself must fail us.
But I, a wretched human creature, In her looks, and in her mien,
Wanting thy gentle generous aid, Such a graceful air is seen,
Of husband, rivals, friends, afraid! That if you, with all your art,
Amidst all this seraphic fire, Can but reach the smallest part;
Am almost dying with desire, Next to her, the matchless she,
With eager wishes, ardent thoughts, We shall wonder most at thee.
Prone to commit Love's wildest faults ! Then her neck, and breasts, and hair,
And (as we are on Sundays told And her—but my charming fair
The lusty patriarch did of old) Does in a thousand things excel,
Would force a blessing from those charms,
And grasp an angel in my arms.
SUNG ON THE STAGE, BETWEEN AN ELDERLY SHEPHED
AND A VERY YOUNG NYMPH,
Brigut and blooming as the Spring,
Universal love inspiring;
all our swains thy praises sing, DON ALONZO'S BEING KILLED IN
Ever gazing and admiring.
Praises in so high a strain, UPON ACCOUNT OF THE INFANTA, IN THE YEAR 1633.
And by such a shepherd sung, In such a cause no Muse should fail
Are enough to make me vain, To bear a mournful part;
Yet so harmless and so young. "Tis just and noble to bewajl
SHEPHERD. The fate of fallin desert.
I should have despair'd among In vain ambitious hopes design's
Rivals that appear so gaily : To make his soul aspire,
But your eyes have made me young,
By their smiling on me daily..
Idle boys admire us blindly,
Are inconstant, wild, and bold; Reason itself would scarce oppose,
And your using me so kindly And seems agreed with love.
Is a proof you are not old.
ON ONE WHO
Of all this nothing now remains,
But only sighs and endless pains !
TO A LADY
RETIRING INTO A MONASTERY,
What breast but yours can hold the double fire Oh! deserve so kind a thought.
Of fierce devotion, and of fond desire?
Love would shine forth, were not your zeal so bright, EACH APART FIRST, AND THEN BOTH TOGETHER. Whose glaring flames eclipse his gentler light: Happy we shall lie possessing,
Less seems the faith that inountains can remove, Folded in each other's arms,
Than this which triumphs over youth and love. Love and Nature's chiefest blessing
But shall some threatening priest divide us two? In the still increasing charms.
What worse than that could all his curses do? So the dearest joys of loving,
Thus, with a fright, some have resign'd their breath, Whi h scarce Heaven can go beyond,
And poorly dy'd, only for fear of death. We'll be every day improving,
Heaven see's our passions with indulgence still, And they who lov'd well, can do nothing iil.
While to us nothing but ourselves is dear, You more fair, and I more fond.
Should the world frown, yet what have we to fear ?
Fame, wealth, and power, those high-priz'd gifts I more fair, and you more fond.
The low concerns of a less happy state, (of Fate,
We can lie safe, lock'd in each other's arms, DIED DISCOVERING HER KINDNESS.
Like the blest saiats, eternal raptures know,
And slight those storms that vainly rest below. SOME rex their souls with jealous pain,
Yet this, all this, you are resolv'd to quit; While others sigh for cold disdain:
I see my ruin, and I must submit; Love's various slaves we daily see !
But think, O think, before you prove urkind, Yet kappy all, compar'd with me.
How lost a wretch you leave forlorn behind !
Malignant envy, mix'd with hate and fear, Of all mankind, I lov'd the best
Revenge for wrongs too barthensome to bear, Anymph so far above the rest,
Ev'n zeal itself, from whence all mischiefs spring, That we outshin'd tbe llest above,
Have never done so barbarous a thing. In beauty she, and I in love.
With such a fate the Heavens decreed to vex And therefore they who could not bear
Armida once, though of the fairest sex; To be outdone by mortals here,
Rinaldo she had charm'd with so much art, Among themselves have plac'd her now,
Hers was his power,
his person, and his heart : And left me wretched here below.
Honour's high thoughts no more his mind could
move; All other fate I could have borne,
She sooth'd his rage, and turn'd it all to love: And ev'n endur'd her very scorn;
When straight a gust of fierce devotion blows, But, oh! thus all at once to find
And in a moment all her joys o’erthrows : That dread account ! both dead and kind!
The poor Armida tears her golden hair, What heart can hold! if yet I live,
Matchless, till now, for love or for despair. 'Tis but to show how much I grieve.
Who is not mov'd while the sad nymph complains ?
My banish'd sorrows, and your conquer'd fears;
So many doubts, so many dangers past, Come, all ye doleful, dismal cares,
Visions of zeal must vanquish me at last. That ever haunted guilty mind!
Thus, in great Homer's war, throughout the field, The pangs of lore when it despairs,
Some hero still made all things mortal yield; And all those stings the jealous find :
But when a god once took the vanquish'd side, Alas! heart-breaking though ye be,
The weak prevail'd, and the victorious dy'd. Yet welcome, welcome all to me! Who now have lost-but, oh! how much?
No language, nothing can express, Except my grief! for she was such,
THE VISION. That praises would but make her less.
WRITTEN DURING A SEA VOYAGE, WHEN SENT TO COM Yet who can ever dare to raise
MAND THE FORCES FOR THE RELIEF OF TANGIER. His voice on her, unless to praise? Free from her sex's smallest faults,
ITHIN the silent shades of soft repose, And fair as womankind can be:
Where Fancy's boundless stream for ever flows; Tender and warm as lover's thoughts,
Where the enfranchis'd soul at ease can play, Yet cold to all the world but me.
Tir'd with the toilsome business of the day;
Where princes gladly rest their weary heads, Thank Heaven, my fate transports me now where 1, And change uneasy thrones for downy beds, Your martyr, inay with ease and safety die." Where seeming joys delude despairing minds, With that I kneelid, and seiz'd her trembling And where ev'n Jealousy some quiet finds ;
hand, There I and Sorrow for a while could part,
While she impos'd this cruel kind command: Sleep clos'd my eyes, and eas'd a sighing heart. “ Live, and love on; you will be true, I know;
But isere, too soon, a wretched lover found, But live then, and come back to tell me so; In deepest gricts, that sleep can ne'er be found; For, though I blush at this last guilty breath, With strange surprise my troubled fancy brings I can endure that better than your death." Odd antic shapes of wild unheard of things ;
Tormenting kindness ! barbarous reprieve ! Dismal and terrible they all appear,
Condemn'd to die, and yet compellid to live!
This tender scene my dream repeated o'er,
Methought I then fell groveling to the ground,
With grief and wonder first my spirits faint, Some angel speak her praise; no human tongue, But thus, at last, I vented my complaint : But, with its utmost art, must do her wrung. “ Behold a wretch, whom cruel Fate has found, The only woke in that has power to kill,
And in the depth of all misfortune drown'd. And yet is good enough to want the will;
There shines a nymph, to whom an envy'd swain Who needs no soft alluring words repeat,
Is tyd in Hymen's ceremonious chain; Nor study'd looks of languishing deceit.
But, cloy'd with charms of such a marriage-bed, Fantastic Beauty, always in the wrong,
And fed with manna, yet he longs for bread;
For love perhaps of nothing else but change,
And courts her love in scorn of Flavia's eyes.
“ All this I knew," the form divine reply'd, Deserves some nobler Muse her fame to raise, “ And did but ask to have thy temper try'd, By making the whole sex beside her pyramid of Which prove sincere. Of both I know the mind; praise.
She is too scrupulous, and thou too kind : She, she appeard the source of all my jovs, But since thy fatal love's for ever fix'd, The dearest care that all my thought employs : Whatever time or absence come betwixt; Gently she look'd, as when I left her last,
Since thy fond heart ev'n her disdain prefers When first she seiz'd my heart, and held it fast : To others' love, I'll something soften hers : When, if my vows, alas! were made too late, Lise in the scarch of virtuc she may stray; I saw my doom came not from her, but Fate. Well-meaning mortals should not lose their way. With pity then she eas'd my raging pain, She now indeed sins on the safer side, And her kind eyes could scarce from tears refrain: For hearts too loose are never to be ty'd; “Why, gentle swain,” said she, “why do you grieve But no extremes are either good or wise, In words I should not hear, much less believe? And in the midst alone true virtue lies. I gaze on that which is a fault to mind,
When marriage-vows unite an equal pair, And ought to tly the danger which I find :
'Tis a mere contract made by huinan care, Of false mankind though you may be the best, By which they both are for convenience tyd, Ye all have robb’d poor women of their rest. The bridegroom yet more strictly than the bride ; I see your pain, and see it too with grief,
For circumstances alter every ill,
And woman meets with most temptation still;
And therefore less excus'd to range elsewhere.
But when no longer for each other fit, A passion moving, but a passion vain:
If usage base shall just resentment move,
No obligation after that remains,
But in her love, that dear concern of life,
i Aung me at his feet, his robes would kiss, But all your sex is subject to deceive, And cry's" Ev'n our base world is just in this; And ours, alas ! too willing to believe. Amidst our censures, love we gently blame, Yet others yield, and love o'ercomes the best And love sometimes preserves a female fame. But why should I not shine above the rest? What tie less strong can woman's will restrain? Fair Leda's story seems at first to be When honour checks, and conscience pleads in vain, A fit example ready found for me: When parents' threats and friends' persuasions fail, But she was couzen'd by a borrow'd shape, When interest and ambition scarce prevail, And under harmless feathers felt a rape: To bound that sex when nothing else can move, If I should yield, what reason could I use? They'll live reserv'd, to please the man they love!" | By what mistake the loving crime excuse? The spirit then reply'd to all I said,
Her fault was in her powerful lover lost; " She may be kind, but not till thou art dead ; But of what Jupiter have I to boașt? Bewail thy memory, bemoan thy fate:
Though you to heroes and to kings succeed,
And great alliances but useless prove
Go then and boast in some less haughty place Amaz'd, I wak'd in haste,
Your Phrygian blood, and Priam's ancient race, All trembling at my doom:
Which I would show I valued, if I durst;
You are the fifth from Jove, but I the first.
The crown of Troy is powerful, I confess,
That men can good, and women pleasant call,
Gives expectation such an ample field
But, if I e'er offend great Juno's laws,
Yourself shall be the dear, the only cause;
Or follow you without mean thoughts of gain:
We like the gift, when we the giver prize; How dares a stranger, with designs so vain,
But 'tis your love moves me, which made you take Marriage and hospitable rights profane?
Such pains, and run such hazards for my sake. Was it for this your fate did shelter find
I have perceiv'd (though I dissembled too) From swelling seas and every faithless wind? A thousand things that love has made you do; (For though a distant country brought you forth, Your eager eyes would almost dazzle mine, (shine. Your usage here was equal to your worth.) In which (wild man !) your wanton thoughts would Does this deserve to be rewarded so!
Sometimes you'd sigh, sometimes disorder'd stand, Did you come here a stranger, or a foe?
And with unusual ardour press my hand; Your partial judgment may perhaps complain, Contrive just aster me to take the glass, And think me barbarous, for my just disdain ; Nor would you let the least occasion pass; Ill-bred then let me be, but not uuchaste,
Which oft I fear'd I did not mind alone, Nor my clear fame with any spot defac'd.
And blushing sat for things which you have done; Though in my face there's no affected frown, Then murmur'd to myself, “ He'll for my sake Nor in my carriage a feign'd niceness shown, Do any thing :" I hope 'twas no mistake. I keep my honour still without a stain,
Oft have I read within this pleasant grove, Nor has my love made any coxcomb vain.
Under my name, these charming words, í love. Your boldness I with adıniration see:
I, frowning, seem'd not to believe your fame, What hope had you to gain a queen like me? But now, alas! am come to write the same. Because a hero forc'd me once away,
If I were capable to do amiss, Am I thought fit to be a second prey ?
I could not but be sensible of this. Had I been won, I had deserv'd your blame, For, oh! your face has such peculiar charms, But sure my part was nothing but the same; That who can hold from flying to your arms ! Yet the base theft to him no fruit did bear,
But what I ne'er can have without offence, I 'scap'd unhurt by any thing but fear :
May some blest maid possess with innocence, Pude force might some unwilling kisses gain, Pleasure may tempt,but Virtue more should move; But that was all he ever could obtain.
Oh! learn of me to want the thing you love. You on such terms would ne'er have let me go; What you desire is sought by all mankind; Were he like you, we had not parted so.
As you have eyes, so others are not blind : Untouch'd the youth restor'd me to my friends, Like you they see, like you my charms adore ; And modest usage made me some amends.
They wish not less, but you dare venture more. 'Tis virtue to repent a vicious deed :
Oh! had you then upon our coasts been brought, Did he repent, that Paris might succeed ?
My virgin love when thousand rivals sought, Sure 'tis some fate that sets me above wrongs, You had I seen, you should bave had my voice, Yet still exposes me to busy tongues.
Nor could my husband justly blame my choice. I'll not complain, for who's displeas'd with love, For both our hopes, alas ! you came too late, If it sincere, discreet, and constant prove? Another now is master of my fate : Bat that I fear--not that I think you base, More to my wish I could have liv'd with you, Or doubt the blooming beauties of my face; And yet iny present lot can undergo.
Cease to solicit a weak woman's will,
Let me not live, but every thing conspires And urge not her you love to so much ill;
To join our loves, and yet my fear retires. But let me live contented as I may,
You court with words, when you should force em. And make not my unspotted fame your prey:
ploy; Some right you claim, since naked to your eyes A rape is requisite to shame-fac'd joy : Three goddesses disputed beauty's prize :
Indulgent to the wrongs which we receive, One offer'd valour, t' other crowns; but she Our sex can sufler what we dare not give. Obtain'd her cause, who, smiling, promis'd me.
What have I said! for both of us 'twere best, But, first, I am not of belief so light,
Our kiniling fire if each of us supprest. To think such nymphs would show you such a The faith of strangers is too prone to change, sight:
And, like themselves, their wandering passions Yet, granting this, the other part is feign'd,
range. A bribe so mean your sentence had not gain'd. Hypsipyla, and the fond Minoian maid, With partial eyes I should myself regard,
Where both by trusting of their guest betray'd : To think that Venus made me her reward;
How can I doubt that other men deceive, I hunbly am content with human praise,
When you yourself did fair Oenone leave? A goddess's applause would envy raise :
But, lest I should upbraid your treachery,
You make a merit of that crime to me.
Your weary Trojan's wait but for a wind.
Should you prevail, while I assign the night, One joy I have, that I had Venus' voice :
Your sails are hoisted, and you take your tight 3 A greater yet, that you confirm'd her choice; Some bawling mariner our love destroys, That proffer'd laurels, promis'd sovereignty, And breaks asunder our unfinish'd joys. Juno and Pallas, you contemn'd for me.
But I with you may leave the Spartan port, Am I your empire then, and your renown? To view the Trojan wealth and Priam's court. What heart of rock but must by this be won? Shown while I sce, I shall expose my fame, And yet bear witness, O ye powers above,
And fill a foreign country with my shame, How rude I am in all the arts of love!
In Asia what reception shall I find ! My hand is yet untaught to write to men,
And what dishonour leave in Greece behind ! This is th' essay of my unpractis'd pen:
What will your brothers, Priam, Hecuba, Happy those nymphs whom use has perfect made, And what will all your modest matrons say ? I think all crime, and treinble at a shade :
Ev'n you, when on this action you reflect, Ev'n while I write, my fearful conscious eyes My future conduct justly may suspect; Look often back, misdoubting a surprise :
And whate'er stranger lands upon your coast, For now the rumour spreads among the crowd, Conclude me, by your own example, lost. At court in whispers, but in town aloud.
1, from your rage, a strumpet's name shall hear, Dissemble you, whate'er you hear them say: While yon forget what part in it you bear: To leave of loving were your better way;
You, my crime's author, will my crime upbraid : Yet, if you will dissemble it, you may.
Deep under ground, oh ! let me first be laid ! Love secretly : the absence of my lord
You boast the pomp and plenty of your land, More freedom gives, but does not all afford : And promise a'l shall be at my command : Long is his journey, long will be his stay,
Your Trojan wealth, believe me, I despise ; Call’d by affairs of consequence away.
My own poor native land has dearer ties. To go or not, when unresolv'd he stood,
Should I be injurd on your Phrygian shore, I bid him make what swift return he could:
What help of kindred could I there implore? Then kissing me, he said, “ I recommend
Medea was by Sason's flattery won ;
Plain honest hearts, like mine, suspect no cheat,
With gentle winds were wafted from the shore. Absent he is, yet absent he commands:
Your teeming mother dreamt a faming brand, You know the proverb, “ Princes have long hands.” Sprung from her womb, consum'd the Trojan land; My fame's my burden, for the more I'm prais'd, To second this, old prophecies conspire, A juster ground of jealousy is rais'd :
That Ilium shall be burnt with Grecian fire : Were I less fair, I might have been more blest, Both give me fear, nor is it much allay'd, Great beauty through great danger is possest. That Venus is oblig'd our loves to aid. To leave me here, his venture was not hard, For they, who lost their cause, revenge will take, Because he thonght my virtue was my guard : And for one friend two enemies you make. He fear'd my face, but trusted to my life,
Nor can I doubt but, should I follow you, The beauty doubted, but believ'd the wife.
The sword would soon our fatal crime pursue: You bid me use th’occasion while I can,
A wrong so great my husband's rage would rouze, Put in your hands by the good easy man.
And my relations would his cause espouse. i would, and yet I doubt 'twixt love and fear; You boast your strength and courage; but alas ! One draws me from you, and one brings me near. Your words receive sipall credit from your face. Our flames are mutual, and my husband's gone: Let heroes in the dusty field delight, The nights are long; I fear to lie alone ;
Those limbs were fashion'd for another fight. One house contains us, and weak wails divide, Bid Hector sally from the walls of Troy ; And you're too pressing to be long deny'd.
A sweeter quarrel should your arms employ,