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AN

OF LO V E.
NGER, in hasty words, or blows,

Itself discharges on our foes :
And forrow too finds some relief
In tears, which wait upon our grief :
So every passion, but fond Love,
Unto its own redress does move :
But that alone the wretch inclines
To what prevents his own designs;
Makes him lament, and figh, and weep,
Disorder'd, tremble, fawn, and

creep;
Poftures which render him despis'd,
Where he endeavours to be priz'd.
For women (born to be control'd)
Stoop to the forward and the bold:
Affect the haughty and the proud,
The gay, the frolic, and the loud.
Who first the generous steed opprest,
Not kneeling did falute the beast;
But with high courage, life, and force,
Approaching, tam'd th' unruly horse.

Unwisely we the wiser East
Pity, supposing them opprest
With tyrants’ force, whose law is will,
By which they govern, spoil, and kill :
Each nymph, but moderately fair,
Commands with no less rigos here.
Should some brave Turk, that walks

among His twenty lases, bright and young;

And

And beckons to the willing dame,
Preferr’d to quench his present flame;
Behold as many Gallants here,
With modest guise, and filent fear,
All to one female idol bend :
While her high pride does scarce descend
To mark their follies; he would swear
That these her guard of eunuchs were:
And that a more majestic Queen,
Or humbler slaves, he had not seen.

All this with indignation spoke,
In vain I struggled with the yoke
Of mighty Love: that conquering look,
When next beheld, like lightning strook
My blasted soul; and made me bow,
Lower than those I pity'd now.

So the tall stag, upon the brink
Of some smooth stream, about to drink,
Surveying there his armed head,
With shame remembers that he fled
The scorned dogs; resolves to try
The combat next: but, if their cry
Invades again his trembling ear,
He itrait resumes his wonted care;
Leaves the untasted spring behind,
And, wing’d with fear, out-flies the wind.

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TO PHYLLIS.

PHYLLIS
HYLLIS! why should we delay

Pleasures shorter than the day?
Could we (which we never can!)
Stretch our lives beyond their span;
Beauty like a shadow fies,
And our youth before us dies.
Or, would youth and beauty ftay,
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.

Phyllis ! to this truth we owe
All the love betwixt us two:
Let not you and I enquire,
What has been our past defire :
On what shepherd you have smild,
Or what nymphs I have beguil'd:
Leave it to the planets too,
What we shall hereafter do:
For the joys we now may prove,
Take advice of present love.

TO

TO MY LORD OF FALKLAND.
BRAVI
RAVE Holland leads, and with him Falkland

goes.
Who hears this told, and does not strait suppose
We send the Graces and the Muses forth,
To civilize and to instruct the North?
Not that these ornaments make fwords less sharp;
Apollo bears as well his bow as harp:
And though he be the patron of that spring,
Where in calm peace the sacred virgins fing;
He courage had to guard th’invaded throne
Of Jove, and cast the ambitious giant down.

Ah, noble friend! with what impatience all
That know thy worth, and know how prodigal
Of thy great soul thou art (longing to twist
Bays with that ivy, which so early kiss'd
Thy youthful temples) with what horror we
Think on the blind events of war and thee!
To fate exposing thạt all-knowing breast
Among the throng, as cheaply as the rest :
Where oaks and brambles (if the copse be burn'd)
Confounded lie, to the same ashes turn'd.

Some happy wind over the ocean blow
This tempest yet, which frights our island fo!
Guarded with Tips, and all the sea our own,
From Heaven this mischief on our heads is thrown.

In a late dream, the Genius of this land, Amaz’d, I saw, like the * fair Hebrew stand; * Rebekah.

When

When first she felt the twins begin to jar,
And found her womb the seat of civil war.
Inclin'd to whose relief, and with presage
Of better fortune for the present age,
Heaven sends, quoth I, this discord for our good;
To warm, perhaps, but not to waste our blood:
To raise our drooping spirits, grown the scorn
Of our proud neighbours; who ere long shall mourn
(Though now they joy in our expected harms)
We had occasion to resume our arms.

A lion fo with self-provoking fmart
(His rebel tail scourging his nobler part)
Calls

up
his

courage; then begins to roar, And charge his foes, who thought him mad before.

FOR DRINKING OF HEALTHS.
ET brutes and vegetals, that cannot think,

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A more indulgent mistress guides our sp’rits,
Reason, that dares beyond our appetites :
She would our care, as well as thirst, redress;
And with Divinity rewards excess.
Deserted Ariadne, thus fupply'd,
Did perjurd Theseus' cruelty deride :
Bacchus embrac'd, from her exalted thought
Banish'd the man, her passion, and his fault.
Bacchus and Phæbus 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,

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