ECHO. TIR'D with the rough denials of my prayer, Ah, gentle nymph! who lik'st so well In hollow, solitary caves to dwell; Her heart being such, into it go, And do but once from thence answer me so! Complaisant nymph! who dost thus kindly share Paint thee to her, as describe her to thee. By repercussion beams engender fire; Thus things by opposition The gainers grow; my barren love alone Does from her stony breast rebound, Producing neither image, fire, nor sound. THE RICH RIVAL. THEY say you're angry, and rant mightily, Alas! you're very rich, 't is true; And know you 'ave more by that than you deserve. When next I see my fair-one, she shall know And, wretch! I'll strike thee dumb and dead, Pox o' your friends, that dote and domineer ! Let's those in other things obey; The Fates, and Stars, and Gods, must govern here. Vain names of blood! in love let none Advise with any blood, but with their own. "T is that which bids me this bright maid adore ; No other thought has had access! Did she now beg, I'd love no less, And, were she an empress, I should love no more: Were she as just and true to me, Ah, simple soul! what would become of thee? AGAINST HOPE. HOPE! whose weak being ruin'd is, The stars have not a possibility Of blessing thee; If things then from their end we happy call, 'Tis Hope is the most hopeless thing of all. Hope! thou bold taster of delight, Who, whilst thou shouldst but taste, devour'st it quite! Thou bring'st us an estate, yet leav'st us poor, The joys which we entire should wed, Hope! Fortune's cheating lottery! Where for one prize an hundred blanks there be; Fond archer, Hope! who tak'st thy aim so far, That still or short or wide thine arrows are! Thin, empty cloud, which th' eye deceives When thy false beams o'er Reason's light prevail, Brother of Fear, more gayly clad! The merrier fool o' th' two, yet quite as mad: By the strange witchcraft of "Anon!" And th' other chases Woman, whilst she goes FOR HOPE. HOPE! of all ills that men endure, The only cheap and universal cure! Thou captive's freedom, and thou sick man's health! Thou loser's victory, and thou beggar's wealth! Thou manna, which from heaven we eat, To every taste a several meat! Thou strong retreat! thou sure-entail'd estate, Thou pleasant, honest flatterer! for none Hope! thou first-fruits of happiness! Thou gentle dawning of a bright success! Thou good preparative, without which our joy Does work too strong, and, whilst it cures, destroy! Who out of Fortune's reach dost stand, And art a blessing still in hand! Whilst thee, her earnest-money, we retain, Whether she' her bargain break, or else fulfil; Brother of Faith! 'twixt whom and thee The joys of heaven and earth divided be! Though Faith be heir, and have the fixt estate, Thy portion yet in moveables is great. Happiness itself's all one In thee, or in possession! Only the future 's thine, the present his ! Best apprehender of our joys! which hast Hope thou sad lovers' only friend! Thou Way, that mayst dispute it with the End! |