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Lamenting, frighted, and undone,

I fly from place to place.
Fram'd by fome cruel powers above,
So nice fhe is, and fair;

None from undoing can remove

Since all, who are not blind, must love;
Who are not vain, despair.


The gods no fooner give a grace,
But, fond of their own art,

Severely jealous, ever place,
To guard the glories of a face,
A dragon in the heart.

Proud and ill-natur'd powers they are,

Who, peevish to mankind,

For their own honour's fake, with care
Make a fweet form divinely fair:

Then add a cruel mind.


Since the 's infenfible of love,
By honour taught to hate;
If we, forc'd by decrees above,
Muft fenfible to beauty prove,
How tyrannous is Fate !

I to the nymph have never nam'd
The cause of all my pain.


Such bashfulness may well be blam'd;
For, fince to ferve we 're not afham'd,
Why should the blush to reign?



But, if her haughty heart defpife
My humble proffer'd one,
The just compaffion she denies,
I may obtain from others' eyes;
Hers are not fair alone.
Devouring flames require new food;
My heart's confum'd almost :
New fires muft kindle in her blood,
Or mine go out, and that 's as good.


Would't live when love is loft?
Be dead before thy paffion dies;
For if thou fhould'ft furvive,
What anguifh would thy heart furprize,
To fee her flames begin to rife,
And thine no more alive?.


Rather what pleasure fhould I meet

In my triumphant scorn,

To fee my tyrant at my feet;

While, taught by her, unmov'd I fit

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Ungentle fhepherd! ceafe, for fhame,
Which way can you pretend

To merit fo divine a flame,

Who to dull life make a mean claim,

When love is at an end?


As trees are by their bark embrac❜d,
Love to my foul doth cling;

When torn by the herd's greedy taste,
The injur'd plants feeb they're defac'd,
They wither in the fpring.

My rifled love would foon retire,
Diffolving into air,

Should I that nymph cease to admire,
Blefs'd in whofe arms I will expire,
Or at her feet despair.

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ALL things fubmit themselves to your command,

Fair Cælia, when it does not love withstand:

The power it borrows from your eyes alone;
All but the god muft yield to, who has none.
Were he not blind, fuch are the charms you have,
He 'd quit his godhead to become your flave :
Be proud to act a mortal hero's part,

And throw himself for fame on his own dart.
But fate has otherwise difpos'd of things,
In different bands fubjected flaves and kings:
Fetter'd in forms of royal ftate are they,
While we enjoy the freedom to obey.
That fate, like you, refiftlefs does ordain
To Love, that over Beauty he shall reign.
By harmony the universe does move,
And what is harmony but mutual love?


Who would refift an empire fo divine,
Which univerfal nature does enjoin?
(See gentle brooks, how quietly they glide,
Kiffing the rugged banks on either fide;






While in their crystal streams at once they show, And with them feed the flowers which they beftow : Though rudely throng'd by a too near embrace, In gentle murmurs they keep on their pace To the lov'd fea; for ftreams have their defires; Cool as they are, they feel love's powerful fires, And with fuch paffion, that if force Stop or moleft them in their amorous course, They fwell, break down with The banks they kifs'd, and flowers they fed before. Submit then, Calia, ere you be reduc'd, For rebels, vanquish'd once, are vilely us❜d. Beauty's no more but the dead foil, which Love Manures, and does by wife commerce improve: Sailing by fighs, through feas of tears, he fends Courtships from foreign hearts, Cherish the trade, for as with Indians we Get gold and jewels, for our trumpery, So to each other, for their useless toys, Lovers afford whole magazines of joys. But, if you 're fond of baubles, be, and starve, Your gewgaw reputation still preserve :


Live upon modesty and empty fame,
Foregoing fenfe for a fantastic name.


own ends :



ÆLIA, that faithful fervant you difown,

But bright ideas, such as you inspire,
We can no more conceal than not admire.
My heart at home in my own breast did dwell,
Like humble hermit in a peaceful cell:
Unknown and undisturb'd it rested there,
Stranger alike to Hope and to Despair.
Now Love with a tumultuous train invades
The facred quiet of thofe hallow'd shades;
His fatal flames fhine out to every eye,
Like blazing comets in a winter sky.
How can my paffion merit your offence,
That challenges fo little recompence?
For I am one born only to admire,

Too humble e'er to hope, fcarce to defire.
A thing, whose blifs depends upon your will,
Who would be proud you'd deign to use him ill.
Then give me leave to glory in my chain,
My fruitless fighs, and my unpity'd pain.
Let me but ever love, and ever be
Th' example of your power and cruelty.
Since fo much fcorn does in your breaft refide,
Be more indulgent to its mother Pride.

Kill all you ftrike, and trample on their graves;
But own the fates of your neglected slaves:

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