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Why may not my attempts fuccefsful prove,
Affifted by Divinity, and Love?

With fearless courage I dare undertake
Amazing Actions, for my Husband's fake :
Through all the World (my Life), I'll follow Thee,
Whether by Land thou wand'reft or by Sea;
Whether on Shoar or on the fwelling Main,
One Houfe, one Boat may both of us contain:
If your fharp Keel Ionian Waves divide,
On that Ionian Sea my Bark fhall ride.
If (to contemplate on the fufferings
And cruel Death of the bleft King of Kings,)
A Pilgrim to the Holy-land you go,
I'll join in Adoration there with you.
If where th' adored, Silver fordan flows,
With you in Palestine I'll offer holy Vows;
Or if to Scythian Mountains you repair,
And leave this temp'rate for that frozen Air;
With thee (my Soul) I willingly can dwell
On the cold Top of the Caucasian Hill.
Or fhould you wander o'er the Libyan Sand,
(That vaft, and wild, unhofpitable Land)
Through thofe parcht Plains with thee (my Love)
I'll ftray,

Nor fear the hungry, favage Beafts of Prey.
I'll be a Thracian, if to Thrace you fail;
My Love fhall o'er my Sexes fears prevail,
Nothing to follow you would feem a Toil.
Tho' to the utmoft Indies you are driv'n,
Till I can reach your Arms, I'll know no Hav'n.
Ah! let chafte Love propitious Planets keep,
Safe from the dangers of the greedy Deep;
Yet if my Ship by Tempefts must be toin,
By artful ftrokes above the Waters born
In fpite of Nature I fhall fwim to shoar,
For Love will give my untaught hands the pow'r.
The flaming Conftellations are in Love,
And Seas, and all that in the Waters move;

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But the unfettl'd Waves, nor the inconftant Wind.
Shall ever move my Faith, or shake my ftedfaft Mind.
But if inevitable Fates decree,

That I muft fuffer in the angry Sea,
Leviathan, let me become thy Prey ;
(The only fuccour fuch a Fate can give)
In thy kind Bowels hidden let me live,

There let me reft, till thou fhalt find that fhoar
Where my Alexias iš á Wanderer,

There caft me up unhurt, and leave me there.
So in the fcaly Monster Jonas lày,
Protected from the Fury of the Sea;

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Both wondred at their Lot, and both rejoic'd,
One with his guest was pleas'd,the other with his hoft;
The third day came, and then (by Heaven's com-
The Fish reftor'd the Prophet to the Land.
But if to me no Fish will favour fhew,
And (dear Alexias) I muft dye for you;
Oh Love Divine! I'm pleas'd for thee to fall,
For thee, chafte Author of my Funeral;

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The Sea fhall take my Name, and 'mongst the Stars
I'll be a Guide to wandring Mariners:

While they with wonder fhall repeat my Name,
A Faith like mine deferves no lefs a Fame;
They'll doubtless pray that fuch a Wife, above,
May be rewarded for fo chafte a Love;
And that her Husband there may conftant prove,
And for the load of waters he has born,
Her Ashes may lye eafie in their Urn..
Alas! I rave, with fancies I am fed,

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Not knowing where my deareft Husband's fied,
I fearch him, dreaming in my widow'd Bed.
If to the Woods I go, or Rocks, or Shoars,
From thee they've learn'd to fcorn Love's mighty
Unheard, alas! I lofe my Am'rous Groans, [Powers.
The Winds and Waves refufe to hear my Moans
Echo alone can fuffer my complaint,

And the with repetition is grown faint,

E. S

Return (my Life) for what can cause your fay! If thou haft Pity, come, oh! come away: Ah! fuffer not thy abfence I should mourn, I'll come to thee, if thou canst not return.

AMARYLLI S, Or the Third Idyllium of THEOCRITUS, Paraphras'd.

By Mr. Dryden.

O Amaryllis Love compels my way, My browzing Gears upon the Mountains ftray: O Tityrus, tend them well, and fee them fed In Paftures fresh, and to their watering led; And 'ware the Ridgling with his butting head. Ah beauteous Nymph, can you forget your Love, The conscious Grottos, and the fhady Grove; Where ftretcht at eafe your tender Limbs were laid, Your nameless Beauties nakedly display'd? Then I was call'd your darling, your defire, With Kiffes fuch as fet my Soul on fire: But you are chang'd, yet I am still the fame, My Heart maintains for both a double Flame. Griev'd, but unmov'd, and patient of your scorn, So faithful I, and you fo much forfworn! I die, and Death will finish all my pain, Yet e'er I die, behold me once again: Am I fo much deform'd, fo chang'd of late? What partial Judges are our Love and Hate! Ten wildings have I gather'd for my Dear, How ruddy like your Lips their streaks appear! Far off you view'd them with a longing Eye Upon the topmost branch (the Tree was high ;)

Yet nimbly up, from bough to bough I fwerv'd;
And for to morrow have Ten more referv'd.
Look on me. kindly and some pity fhew,
Or give me leave at least to look on you.
Some God transform me by his Heav'nly Pow'r
Ev'n to a Bee to buzz within your Bow'r,
The winding Lvy-chaplet to invade,

And folded Fern that your fair Forehead fhade.
Now to my coft the force of Love I find;
The heavy hand it bears on human kind!
The Milk of Tygers was his Infant food,
Taught from his tender years the taste of blood;
His brother whelps and he ran wild about the wood.
Ah Nymph, train'd up in his Tyrannick Court,
To make the fuff'rings of your Slaves your sport!
Unheeded Ruin! treacherous Delight!

O polish'd hardness soften'd to the fight!
Whose radiant Eyes your Ebon Brows adorn,
Like Midnight those, and these like break of Morn,
Smile once again, revive me with your Charms ;
And let me die contented in your Arms..
I would not ask to live another Day,
Might 1 but fweeely kifs my Soul away!
Ah, why am I from empty Joys debarr'd,
For Kiffes are but empty, when compar❜d!
I rave, and in my raging fit fhall tear
The Garland which I wove for you to wear,
Of Parfly with a wreath of Ivy bound;
And border'd with a Rofie edging round,
What pangs I feel, unpity'd, and unheard!
Since I muft die, why is my Fate, deferr'd!
I ftrip my Body of my Shepherd's Frock,
Behold that dreadful downfal of a Rock,
Where yon old Fisher views the Waves from high!
'Tis that convenient leap I mean to try.
You would be pleas'd, to fee me plunge to shoar,
But better pleas'd if I fhould rife no more.
I might have read my Fortune long ago,
When, feeking my fuccefs in Love to know,

I try'd th' infallible Prophetick way,
A Poppy leaf upon my Palm to lay ;

I ftruck, and yet no lucky crack did follow,
Yet I ftruck hard, and yet the leaf lay hollow.
And which was worfe, if any worfe could prove,
The with'ring leaf forefhew'd your with'ring Love,
Yet farther (Ah, how far a Lover dares!)
My last recourfe I had to Sieve and Sheers;
And told the Witch Agreo my disease,
(Agree that in Harveft us'd to leafe;

But Harvest done, to Chare-work did aspire;
Meat, Drink, and two pence was her daily hire ;)
To work fhe went, her Charms fhe mutter'd o'er,
And yet the refly Sieve wagg'd ne'er the more;
I wept for woe, the tefty Beldame swore,
And foaming with her God, foretold my Fate;
That I was doom'd to Love, and you to Hate.
A milk-white Goat for you I did provide;
Two milk-white Kids run frisking by her fide,
For which the Nut-brown Lafs, Erithacis,
Full often offer'd many a favoury Kifs;
Hers they fhall be, fince you refufe the price:
What madman would o'erftand his Market twice!
My right Eye itches, fome good-luck is near,
Perhaps my Amaryllis may appear,

I'll fet up fuch a Note as he shall hear.

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What Nymph but my melodious Voice would move
She must be Flint, if fhe refuse my Love.
Hippomenes, who ran with noble ftrife
To win his Lady, or to lofe his Life,

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(What shift fome men will make to get a Wife?)
Threw down a golden Apple in her way,
For all her hafte fhe could not chufe but ftay:
Renown faid Run, the glitt'ring Bribe cry'd Hold;
The Man might have been hang'd but for his Gold.
Yet fome fuppofe 'twas Love (fome few indeed,}
That ftopt the fatal fury of her fpeed:
She faw, the figh'd; her nimble Feet refufe
Their wonted speed, and she took pains to lofe,

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