OF LOVE... TO PHYLLIS... TO MY LORD OF FALKLAND. 49 While some fierce lion does embrace

Beauty like a shadow flies, His breathless corpse, and lick his face:

And our youth before us dies. Wrapp'd up in silent fear he lies,

Or, would youth and beauty stay,
Tora all in pieces if he cries.

Love hath wings, and will away.
Love hath swifter wings than Time:
Change in love to Heaven does climb;

Gods, that never change their state,

Vary oft their love and hate.
Axar, in hasty words, or blows,

Phyllis! to this truth we owe Itself discharges on our foes;

All the love betwixt us two: And sorrow too finds some relief

Let not you and I inquire, In tears, which wait upon our grief:

What has been our past desire; So every passion, but fond love,

On what shepherd you have smil'd, Cato its own redress does move:

Or what nymphs I have beguilid: Bet that alone the wretch inclines

Leave it to the planets too, To that prevents his own designs ;

What we shall hereafter do: Makes him lament, and sigh, and weep,

For the joys we now may prove,
Disader'd, tremble, fawn, and creep;

Take advice of present love.
Astures which render him despis'd,
Where he endeavours to be priz'd:
For women, born to be controld,
Sup to the forward and the bold;

Afect the haughty and the proud,

Brave Holland leads, and with him Falkland goes. The gay, the frolic, and the loud.

Who hears this told, and does not strait suppose 20 first the generous steed opprest;

We send the Graces and the Muses forth, Nat kneeling did salate the beast;

To civilize and to instruct the North ? Bu wth bigh courage, life, and force,

Not that these ornaments make swords less sharp: Approaching, tam'd th' unruly horse.

Apollo bears as well his bow as barp; l'owisely ve the wiser East

And though he be the patron of that spring, Pty, supposing them opprest,

Where in calm peace the sacred virgins sing, th tyrants' force, whose law is will,

He courage had to guard th' invaded throne by which they govern, spoil, and kill:

Of Jove, and cast the ambitious giants down. Each nymph, but moderately fair,

Ah, noble friend! with what impatience all Commands with no less rigour here.

That know thy worth, and know how prodigal Shoald sone brave Turk, that walks among Of thy great soul thou art, (longing to twist Hs twenty lasses, bright and young,

Bays with that ivy, which so early kiss'd And beckons to the willing dame,

Thy youthful temples) with what hortour we Preferr'd to quench his present flame,

Think on the blind events of war and thee! Behold as many gallants here,

To Fate exposing that all-knowing breast With modest guise, and silent fear,

Among the throng, as cheaply as the rest; All to obe female idol bend,

Where oaks and brambles (if the copse be burn'd) While her high pride does scarce descend

Confounded lie, to the same ashes turn'd. To mark their follies, he would swear,

Some happy wind over the ocean blow That these her guard of eunuchs were;

This tempest yet, which frights our island so! And that a more majestic queen,

Guarded with ships, and all the sea our own, Or humbler slaves, he had not seen.

From Heaven this mischief on our beads is thrown. All this with indignation spoke,

In a late dream, the Genius of this land, In rain I struggled with the yoke

Amaz'd, I saw, like the fair Hebrew : stand; Oí mighty love: that conquering look,

When first she felt the twins begin to jar, When next beheld, like lightning strook

And found her womb the seat of civil war. My blasted soul, and made me bow

Inclin'd to whose relief, and with presage Lower than those I pity'd now.

Of better fortune for the present age, So the tall stag, upon the brink

Heaven sends, quoth I, this discord for our good; Of some sinooth stream, about to drink,

To warm, perhaps, but not to waste our blood : Sürreying there his armed head,

To raise our drooping spirits, grown the scorn With shame remembers that he fled

Of our proud neighbours; who ere long shall mourn The scorned dogs, resolves to try

('Though now they joy in our expected harins) The combat dext: but, if their cry

We had occasion to resume our arms. kvades again his trembling ear,

A lion, so with self-provoking smart, He strait resames his wonted care;

(His rebel tail scourging his nobler part) lares the untasted spring behind,

Calls up his courage; then begins to roar, Asd, ving'd with fear, outflies the wind.

And charge bis foes, who thought him mad before.

TO PHYLLIS.! why should we delay, Pleasures shorter than the day? Coald we (which we never can!) Stretch our lives beyond their span,

FOR DRINKING OF HEALTHIS. Les brutes and vegetals, that camiot think, So far as drought and nature urges, drink:


* Rebekah.

E •

A more indulgent mistress guides our sp'rits, Thus the fair tyrant celebrates the prize,
Reason, that dares beyond our appetites :

And acts herself the triumph of her eyes : She would our care, as well as thirst, redress, So Nero once, with harp in hand, survey'd And with divinity rewards excess.

His flaming Rome, and as it burn'd he play'd.
Deserted Ariadne, thus supply'd,
Did perjur'd Theseus' cruelty deride:
Bacchus embrac'd, from her exalted thought
Banish'd the man, her passion, and his fault.

Bacchus and Phoebus are by Jove ally'd,
And each by other's timely heat supply'd:

All that the grapes owe to his ripening fires,
Is paid in numbers which their juice inspires. Culoris, yourself you so excel,
Wine fills the veins, and healths are understood When you vouchsafe to breathe my thought,
'To give our friends a title to our blood :

That, like a spirit, with this spell Who, naming me, doth warm his courage so,

Of my own teaching, I am caught. Shows for my sake what his bold hand would do.

That eagle's fate and mine are one,

Which, on the shaft that made him die,

Espy'd a feather of his own,

Wherewith he wont to soar so high.
Chloris farewell! I now must go:

Had Echo with so sweet a grace For if with thee I longer stay,

Narcissus' loud complaints return'd, Thy eyes prevail upon me so,

Not for reflection of his face, I shall prove blind, and lose my way.

But of his voice, the boy had burn'd. Fame of thy beauty, and thy youth,

Among the rest, me hither brought : Finding this fame fall short of truth, Made me stay longer than I thought.

OF MRS. ARDEN. For I'm engag'd, by word and oath,

Begold, and listen, while the fair A servant to another's will:

Breaks in sweet sounds the willing air, Yet, for thy love, I'd forfeit both,

And, with her own breath, fans the fire Could I be sure to keep it still.

Which her bright eyes do first inspire.

What reason can that Jove control, But what assurance can I take?

Which more than one way courts the soul ! When thon, foreknowing this abuse,

So, when a flash of lightning falls For some more worthy lover's sake,

On our abodes, the danger calls May'st leave me with so just excuse.

For human aid, which hopes the flame For thou may'st say, 'twas not thy fault,

To conquer, though from Heaven it came, That thou didst thus inconstant prove;

But, if the winds with that conspire,

Men'strive not, but deplore the fire. Being by my example taught,

To break thy oath, to mend thy love. No, Chloris, no: I will return,

And raise thy story to that height, That strangers shall at distance burn, And she distrust me reprobate.

MARRIAGE OF THE DWARFS Then shall my love this doubt displace,

Design or Chance make others wive, And gain such trust, that I may come

But Nature did this match contrive: And banquet sometimes on thy face,

Eve might as well have Adam fled,
But make my constant meals at home.

As she deny'd her little bed
To him, for whom Heav'n seem'd to frame,
And measure out this only dame.

Thrice happy is that humble pair,

Beneath the level of all care !
Over whose heads those arrows fly

Of sad distrust and jealousy:
Such moving sounds, from such a careless touch! Secured in as high extreme,
So unconcern'd herself, and we so much;

As if the world held none but them. What art is this, that, with so little pains,

To him the fairest nymphs do show
Transports us thus, and o'er our spirits reigns ? Like moving mountains topp'd with snow ;
The trembling strings about her fingers crowd, And every man a Polypheme
And tell their joy for every kiss aloud :

Does to his Galatea seem:
Small force there needs to make them tremble so; None may presume her faith to prove;
Touch'd by that hand, who would not tremble too? He proffers death, that proffers love.
Here Love takes stand, and, while she charms the Ah! Chloris! that kind Nature thus
Empties his quiver on the listening deer: (ear, From all the world had sever'd us:
Music so softens and disarms the mind,

Creating for ourselves us two,
That not an arrow does resistance find.

As Love has une for only you !





For you, that are in motion still,

Decline our force, and mock our skill ;
TREADING the path to nobler ends,

Who, like Don Quixote, do advance A long farewell to love I gave:

Against a windmill our vain lance. Resolvid my country, and my friends,

Now will I wander through the air, All that remain'd of me should have.

Mount, make a stoop at every fair ; And this resolve, no mortal dame,

And, with a fancy unconfind,

(As lawless as the sea or wind) None but those eyes, could have o'erthrown:

Pursue you wheresoe'er' you fly, The nymph I dare not, need not, name,

And with your various thoughts comply. So high, so like herself alone.

The formal stars do travel so, This the tall oak, which now aspires

As we their names and courses know; Above the fear of private fires,

And he that on their changes looks, Grown and design'd for nobler use,

Would think them govern’d by our books: Not to make warm, but build the house,

But never were the clouds reduc'd Though from our meaner flames secure,

To any art: the motions us'd fust that which falls from Heaven endure. By those free vapours are so light,

So frequent, that the conquerid sight

Despairs to find the rules, that guide

Those gilded shadows as they slide,

And therefore of the spacious air
Madam, as, in some climes, the warmer sun Jove's royal consort had the care,
Makes it full summer ere the spring's begun, And by that power did once escape,
And with ripe fruit the bending boughs can load, Declining bold Ixion's rape;
Before our violets dare look abroad:

She with her own resemblance grac'd
Ss, measure not, by any common use,

A shining cloud, which he embrac'd.
The early love your brighter eyes produce.

Such was that image, so it smild
When lately your fair hand in woman's weed With seeming kindness, which begnil'd
Wrap'd my glad head, I wish'd me so indeed, Your Thyrsis iately, when he thought
That hasty time might never make me grow He had his tieeting Cælia caught.
Out of those favours you afford me now;

'Twas shap'd like her; but for the fair, Tha: I might ever such indulgence find,

He fill'd his arms with yielding air.
And you not blush, or think yourself too kind,

A fate for which he grieve the less,
bo now, I fear, while I these joys express, Because the gods had like success.
Begin to think how you may make them less : For in their story, one, we see,
The sound of love makes your soft heart afraid, Pursues a nymph, and takes a tree:
And guard itself, though but a child invade, A second, with a lover's haste,
And innocently at your white breast throw

Soon overtakes whom he had chas'd;
A dart as white, a ball of new-fall’n snow.

But she, that did a virgin seem,
Possest, appears a wandering stream:
For his supposed love, a third

Lays greedy hold upon a bird ;

And stands amaz'd to find his dear
Text, shich her slender waist confin'd,

A wild inhabitant of th' air. Shall poa my joyful temples bind :

To these old tales, such nymphs as you No monarch but would give his crown,

Give credit, and still make them new; His arts might do what this has done.

The amorous now like wonders find, It was my Heaven's extremest sphere,

In the swift changes of your mind. The pale which held that lovely deer :

But, Cælia, if you apprehend My joy, my grief, my hope, my love,

The Muse of your incensed friend,

Nor would that he record your blame, Dsd all within this circle move!

And make it live, repeat the same; A narrore compass! and yet there

Again deceive him, and again, Deelt all that's good, and all that's fair :

And then he swears he'll not complain : Grre me but what this ribband bound,

For still to be deluded so,
Take all the rest the Sun goes round.

Is all the pleasure lovers know;
Who, like good falconers, take delight,

Not the quarry, but the flight.
Here, Cælia! for thy sake I part
With all that grew so near my heart;

The passion that I had for thee,

The faith, the love, the constancy!
Ard, that I may successful prove,

'Tis not your beauty can engage Transforin myself to what you love.

My wary heart: Pool that I was! so much to prize

The Sun, in all his pride and rage, These simple virtues you despise :

Has not that art; Fot! that with such dull arrows strove,

And yet he shines as bright as you, Or bop'd to reach a flying dove.

If brightness could our souls subdue.

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'Tis not the pretty things you say,

I pluck'd it, though no better grown;
Nor those you write,

And now you see how full 'tis blown.
Which can make Thyrsis' heart your prey:
For that delight,

Still as I did the leaves inspire,
The graces of a well-taught mind,

With such a purple light they shone, In some of our own sex we find.

As if they had been made of fire,

And, spreading so, would flame anon:
No, Flavia ! 'tis your love I fear:

All that was meant by air or sin,
Love's surest darts,
Those which so seldom fail him, are

To the young flower, my breath has done.
Headed with hearts:

If our loose breath so much can do,
Their very shadows make us yield;

What may the same in forms of love, Dissemble well, and win the field.

Of purest love, and music too,

When Flavia it aspires to move?

When that, which lifeless buds persuades

To wax more soft, her youth invades?
See! how the willing earth gave way,
To take th' impression where she lay!
See! how the mould, as loth to leave

So sweet a burden, still doth cleave
Close to the nymph's stain'd garment! Here

Beyond the brand of beauty tost !
The coming spring would first appear;

See how the motion does dilate the flame! And all this place with roses strow,

Delighted Love his spoils does boast, If busy feet would let them grow.

And triumph in this game. Here Venus smil'd, to see blind Chance

Fire, to no place confin’d, Itself, before her son, advance;

Is both our wonder, and our fear; And a fair image to present,

Moving the mind, Of what the boy so long had meant.

As lightning hurled through the air. 'Twas such a chance as this made all The world into this order fall.

High Heaven the glory does increase Thus the first lovers, on the clay,

Of all her shining lamps this artful way: Of which they were composed, lay:

The Sun, in figures, such as these, So in their prime, with equal grace,

Joys with the Moon to play: Met the first patterns of our race.

To the sweet strains they advance, Then blush not, fair! or on him frown,

Which do result from their own spheres, Or wonder how you both came down;

As this nymph's dance But touch him, and he'll tremble strait :

Moves with the numbers which she hears. How could he then support your weight? How could the youth, alas! but bend, When his whole Heaven upon bim lean'd> If aught by him amiss were done, 'Twas, that he let you rise so soon.


PYGMALEON's fate revers'd is mine;

His marble love took flesh and blood;
Our sighs are beard, just Heaven declares

All that I worshipp'd as divine, The sense it has of lovers' cares :

That beauty! now 'tis understood, She, that has so far the rest outshin'd,

Appears to have no more of life,
Sylvia the fair, while she was kind,

Than that whereof he fram'd his wife.
As if her frowns impair'd her brow,
Seems only not unhandsome now.

As women yet, who apprehend
So when the sky makes us endure

Some sudden cause of causeless fear, A storm, itself becomes obscure.

Although that seeming cause take end,

And they behold no danger near, Hence 'tis, that I conceal my flame,

A shaking through their limbs they find,
Hiding from Flavia's self her name;

Like leaves saluted by the wind :
Lest she, provoking Heaven, should prove
How it rewards neglected love.

So, though the beauty do appear
Better a thousand such as I,

No beauty, which amaz'd me so; Their grief untold, should pine and die,

Yet from my breast I cannot tear Than her bright morning, overcast

The passion, which from thence did grow; With sullen clouds, should be defac'd.

Nor yet out of my fancy rase
The print of that supposed face.

A real beauty, though too near,

The fond Narcissus did admire:
Lately on yonder swelling bush,

I doat on that which is no where; Big with many a coming rose,

The sign of beauty feeds my fire. This early bud began to blush,

No mortal flame was e'er so cruel And did but half itself disclose :

As this, which thus survives the fuel.


May not a thousand dangers sleep

In the smooth bosom of the deep?

No: 'tis so rockless and so clear,

That the rich bottom does appear
MADAM! intending to have try'd

Pav'd all with precious things; not torn The silver favour which you gave,

From shipwreck'd vessels, but there born. In ink the shining point I dy'd,

Sweetness, truth, and every grace, And drench'd it in the sable wave;

Which time, and use, are wont to teach, When, grier'd to be so foully stain'd,

The eye may in a moment reach, On you it thus to me complain'd.

And read distinctly in her face. Suppose you had deserv'd to take

Some other nymphs, with colours faint, From her fair hand so fair a boon;

And pencil slow, may Cupid paint, Yet bow deserved I to make

And a weak heart in time destroy ; So ill a change, who ever won

She has a stamp, and prints the boy : Innortal praise for what I wrote,

Can, with a single look, inflame Instructed by her noble thought?

The coldest breast, the rudest tame. * I, that expressed her commands

To mighty lords and princely dames, Always most welcome to their hands,

THE SELF-BANISHED. Proud that I would record their names, Must now be taught an humble style,

It is not that I love you less, Some meaner beauty to beguile."

Than when before your feet I lay;

But, to prevent the sad increase So I, the wronged pen to please,

Of hopeless love, I keep away. Make it my humble thanks express tots your ladyship, in these:

In vain, alas! for every thing, And Don 'tis forced to confess,

Which I have known belong to you, That your great self did ne'er indite,

Your form does to my fancy bring, Nor that, to one more noble, write.

And makes my old wounds bleed anew.
Who in the spring, from the new sun

Already has a fever got,

Too late begins those shafts to shun,

Which Phoebus through his veins has shot. CALORIS! since first our calm of peace Was frighted hence, this good we find,

Too late he would the pain assuage, Your favours with your fears increase,

And to thick shadows does retire; And growing mischiefs make you kind.

About with him he bears the rage,

And in his tainted blood the fire.
So the fair tree, which still preserves

But vow'd I have, and never must
Her fruit and state, while no wind blows;
In storms from that uprightness swerves,

Your banish'd servant trouble you ;
And the glad earth about her strows

Por if I break, you may mistrust

The vow I made-to love you too. With treasure, from her yielding boughs.

SONG. While I listen to thy voice,

CHoris, I feel my life decay;
That powerful noise

Calls my fleeting soul away.
Oh! suppress that magic sound,
Which destroys without a wound !
Peace, Chloris, peace! or singing die,
That together you and I

To Heaven may go:

For all we know
Of ubat the blessed do above
L, that they sing, and that they love.

Go, lovely Rose !
Tell her, that wastes her time and me,

That now she knows,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet, and fair, she seems to be.

Tell her that's young,
And shuns to have her graces spy'd,

That hadst thou sprung
In deserts, where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended dy'd.

Small is the worth
Of beauty, from the light retir'd:

Bid her come forth,
Suffer herself to be desir'd,
And not blush so to be admir'd.

Then die! that she
The common fate of all things rare

May read in thee:
How small a part of time they share,
That are so wondrous sweet and fair !

Nor caring to observe the wind,

Of the new sea explore,
Saatch'd from myself, how far behind

Already I behold the shore !

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