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And that thou may'st behold my helpless state, All things below, alas! uncertain stand;
The firmest rocks are fix'd upon the sand :
And no beginning is without an end.
And at the tyrant's feet we daily fall :
Fler fate's like Semcle's; the flames destroy
Pale grow the roses, and the lilies fade;
Her skin has lost that lustre which surpass'd
Are now disarmd of all their flames and darts;
Those stars now heavily and slowly move;
Its rage her body feels, and tongue bewails:
She, whose disdain so many lovers prove, And her fair hands sustaind me in my chains ; Sighs now for torment, as they sigh for love, Ev'n tears of pity waited on my moan,
And with loud cries, which rend the neighbouring And tender looks were cast on me alone.
And, wild with grief, my thoughts each other cross, And both alike burn'd with impatient fires. My heart and tongue labour in both extremes,
Too faithful Memory! I give thee leave This sends up humble prayers, while that blasThy wretched master kindly to deceive;
phemes: Oh, make me not possessor of her charms, I ask their help, whose malice I defy, Let me not find her languish in my arms !
And mingle sacrilege with piety. Past joys are now my fancy's moumful theines; But, that which must yet more perplex my mind, Make all my happy nights appear but dreams: 'To love her truly, I must seem unkind; Let not such bliss before my eyes be brought, So unconcern'd a face my sorrow wears, O hide those scenes from my tormenting thought; I must restrain unruly foods of tears. And in their place disdainful beauty show; My eyes and tongue put on dissembling forms, If thou would'st not be cruel, make her so: I show a calmness in the midst of storms ; And, something to abate my deep despair, I seem to hope when all my hopes are gone, O let her seem less gentle, or less fair!
And, almost dead with grief, discover none. But I in vain flatter my wounded mind;
But who can long deceive a loving eye, Never was nymph so lovely or so kind :
Or with dry eyes behold his mistress die; No cold repulses my desire supprest,
When passion had with all its terrours brought
Th' approaching danger nearer to my thought,
And show'd a sighing heart in weeping eyes :
The fair afflicted soon perceives my tears, Por, like a pleasing dream, they are all past. Explains my sighs, and thence concludes my fears : From Heaven her beauties like fierce lightnings with sad presages of her hopeless case, came,
She reads her fate in my dejected face ;
While I ain sensible of hers alone;
Though thus we suffer under Fortune's darts,
Grows by our sighs, and rages at our tears :
Almeria then, feeling the destinies
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 men 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 prove; 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', Dearest Orontes, my hard fate denies,
(For Love makes all embraces chaste) That hope is the last thing which in us dies: fed, 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. E 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 E l'p tow'rds the Heavens like a bright meteor soar'd ; Cautious the young, and complaisant thc old,
The false grow faithful, and the foolish wise ; And the kind nymph, not yet bereft of charms,
The cruel gentle, and the coward bold. Fell cold and breathless in her lover's arms.
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 : = Here let me end the story of my cares;
Ev'n dull and heavy lumps of Love,
Quicken’d by thee, more lively move;
And, if their heads but any substance hold,
Love ripens all that dross into the purest gold. Whether sought not to implore thy aid :
In Heaven's great work thy part is such,
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.
From childhood upwards we decay,
And grow but greater children every day:
To Reason, how can we be said to rise ?
So many cares attend the being wise,
'T'is 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 reignest 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 lover 'blest, To los brutality debase mankind,
Thanks Heaven for that, and never minds the rest. Ry Love we are above ourselves sehin'd.
Love is the salt of life; a higher taste
Those slighted favours which cold nymphs dispense, control;
[can teach And, soaring to her Hearen, from thence inspir'd Mere common counters of the sense,
Defective both in metal and in measure, - High mysteries, above poor Reason's feeble reach.
A lover's fancy coins into a treasure.
But the kind god incites us various ways,
LOVE'S SLAVERY, Grave fops my envy now beget,
Who did my pity move;
Are free from cares of love.
Turks honour fools, because they are,
By that defect, secure
Which all the rest endure.
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 cach wife complains, Witho:t such beauty's help to bear her chains. Husbands like him we every where may see; 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 Tb'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;
They pass alone the night,
Such servants she disdains;
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.
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 1 with yours. And trust me, when I feel that kind relief, A'sence itself awile suspends its grief : So may it do with you, but strait return; For it were crucl 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 mis:, till I with joy return; And soon may pitying Hearen that blessing sive, As in the hopes of that alone I live.
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 arms,
Breasts, and other parts more dear, Exposing new and unknown charms,
To my transported soul appear. Then you so much kindness show,
My despair deluded fies; And indulgent dreams bestow
What your cruelty denies. Blush not 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;
And, to be kept, must be maintain'd
At vast expense of love.
To bless the man who so adores ;
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 Gre,
Now, all ye wiser thoughts, away,
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
inove; THE WARNING.
Who, who so long a time can live, Lovers, who waste your thoughts and youth
Stretch'd on the rack of Love? In passion's fond extremes,
Her soul, perhaps, is too sublime, Who Iream of women's love and truth,
To like such slavish fear; And doat upon your dreams :
Discretion, prudence, all is criine, 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.
INCONSTANCY EXCUSED. As if some injury was meant
I Must confess, I am untrue
To Gloriana's eyes ;
But he that's smild upon by you,
Must all the world despise,
In winter, fires of little worth
Excite our dull desire;
Those fainter flames expire.
Then blame me not for slighting now TO AMORETTA.
What I did once adore; When 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 Amoretta, though
SONG, I cannot love resist,
Ou, 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 hin, 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 possess'd my mind, To a wretch not worth your care ;
When little favours showd 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 failid, Your heart I cannot, cannot miss,
Yet willingly the yoke I bore, And I desire no other bliss;
And all your chains as bracelets wore :
At your lov'd feet all day would lie,
Who could have thought of half your cbarms?
Charms of such a wondrous kind, All 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 reflecting back ; Of all the mind's most cruel 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 arins, or not at all. When in thy lonely bed
My ghost its moan shall make,
Come, let us now resolve at last
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.
The truest joys they seldom prove,
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 secm'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,
Alas ! I loy'd you best.
How blest will be our fate;
Sure never is too late.
WHAT HE HAD NEWLY GAIXED
IN IMITATION OF OVID.
Sure I of all men am the first