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Nay more; thou mak'st me worship thec, And wouldst the rule of my religion be: Did ever tyrant claim such power as you, To be both emperor and pope too?

The public miseries, and my private fate,
Deserve some tears; but greedy thou
(Insatiate maid!) wilt not allow

That I one drop from thee should alienate:
Nor wilt thou grant my sins a part,
Though the sole cause of most of them thou art;
Counting my tears thy tribute and thy due,
Since first mine eyes I gave to you.

Thou all my joys and all my hopes dost claim; Thou ragest like a fire in me,

Converting all things into thee;

Nought can resist, or not increase the flame:
Nay, every grief and every fear

Thou dost devour, unless thy stamp it bear:
Thy presence, like the crowned basilisk's breath,
All other serpents puts to death.

As men in hell are from diseases free,
So from all other ills am I ;

Free from their known formality:
But all pains eminently lie in thee!
Alas, alas! I hope in vain

My conquer'd soul from out thine hands to gain; Since all the natives there thou 'ast overthrown,

And planted garrisons of thine own.

[83]

MAIDENHEAD.

THOU worst estate ev'n of the sex that's worst; Therefore by Nature made at first

T'attend the weakness of our birth!

Slight outward curtain to the nuptial bed!
Thou case to buildings not yet finished!

Who, like the centre of the earth,
Dost heaviest things attract to thee,
Though thou a point imaginary be!

A thing God thought for mankind so unfit,
That his first blessing ruin'd it.

Cold, frozen nurse of fiercest fires!
Who, like the parched plains of Africk's sand
(A sterile, and a wild unlovely land!)

Art always scorch'd with hot desires, Yet barren quite, didst thou not bring Monsters and serpents forth thyself to sting!

Thou that bewitchest men whilst thou dost dwell Like a close conjurer in his cell,

And fear'st the day's discovering eye! No wonder 't is at all that thou shouldst be Such tedious and unpleasant company, Who liv'st so melancholily!

Thou thing of subtile, slippery kind, Which women lose, and yet no man can find!

Although I think thou never found wilt be,
Yet I'm resolv'd to search for thée;

The search itself rewards the pains:
So, though the chemick his great secret miss
(For neither it in Art nor Nature is)

Yet things well worth his toil he gains; And does his charge and labour pay With good unsought experiments by the way.

Say what thou wilt, chastity is no more
Thee, than a porter is his door.

In vain to honour they pretend,

Who guard themselves with ramparts and with walls; Them only Fame the truly valiant calls,

Who can an open breach defend.

Of thy quick loss can be no doubt, Within so hated, and so lov'd without.

IMPOSSIBILITIES.

IMPOSSIBILITIES! oh no, there's none;
Could mine bring thy heart captive home;

As easily other dangers were o'erthrown,
As Cæsar, after vanquish'd Rome,

His little Asian foes did overcome.

True lovers oft by Fortune are envied ;
Oft earth and hell against them strive;
But Providence engages on their side,
And a good end at last does give:
At last, just men and lovers always thrive.

As stars (not powerful else) when they conjoin,
Change, as they please, the world's estate;
So thy heart in conjunction with mine
Shall our own fortunes regulate;

And to our stars themselves prescribe a fate.

'T would grieve me much to find some bold romance, That should two kind examples shew,

Which before us in wonders did advance ;

Not that I thought that story true,

But none should Fancy more, than I would Do.

Through spite of our worst enemies, thy friends; Through local banishment from thee;

Through the loud thoughts of less-concerning ends, As easy shall my passage be,

As was the amorous youth's o'er Helle's sea:

In vain the winds, in vain the billows, roar :
In vain the stars their aid deny'd ;

He saw the Sestian tower on th' other shore;
Shall th' Hellespont our loves divide ?
No, not the Atlantick ocean's boundless tide.
VOL. II.

Such seas betwixt us easily conquer'd are ;

But, gentle maid! do not deny

To let thy beams shine on me from afar ;
And still the taper let me espy:

For, when thy light goes out, I sink and die.

SILENCE.

CURSE on this tongue, that has my heart betray'd,
And his great secret open laid!

For, of all persons, chiefly she
Should not the ills I suffer know;

Since 't is a thing might dangerous grow,

Only in her to pity me:

Since 't is for me to lose my life more fit,
Than 't is for her to save and ransom it.

Ah! never more shall thy unwilling ear
My helpless story hear;

Discourse and talk awake does keep
The rude unquiet pain

That in my breast does reign;

Silence perhaps may make it sleep :

I'll bind that sore up I did ill reveal;

The wound, if once it close, may chance to heal,

No, 't will ne'er heal; my love will never die,
Though it should speechless lie.

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