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Since each has in his bosom nurst

A false and fawning foe, 'Tis just and wise, by striking first,

To 'scape the fatal blow.

TO A M O R E T T A.

WHI

HEN I held out against your eyes,

You took the furest course; A heart unwary to surprize,

You ne'er could take by force. However, though I strive no more,

The fort will no! be priz'd, Which, if surrender'd up before,

Perhaps had been despis'd. But, gentle Amoretta, though

I cannot love resist, Think

you

have caught me fo,
To use me as you list.
Inconstancy or coldness will

My foolish heart reclaim :
Then I come off with honour still,

But you, alas ! with shame.
A heart by kindness only gain'd,

Will a dear conquest prove ;
And, to be kept, must be maintain'd

At vast expence of love.

not, when

THE

T H'E

V E N T U R E.

OH, how I languish! What a strange

Unruly fierce desire !
My spirits feel some wondrous change,

My heart is all on fire.
Now, all ye wifer thoughts, away,
In vain

your
tale
ye

tell
Of patient hopes, and dull delay,

Love's foppish part ; farewell. Suppose one week's delay would give All that

my

wishes move; Oh, who so long a time can live,

Stretch'd on the rack of love ? Her foul perhaps is too sublime,

To like such slavish fear; Discretion, prudence, all is crime,

If once condemn’d by her. When honour does the foldier call

To fome unequal fight, Resolv'd to conquer, or to fall,

Before his general's sight ;
Advanc'd the happy hero lives;

Or if ill Fate denies,
The noble rashness heaven forgives,

And gloriously he dies.

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I
Must confess, I am untrue

To Gloriana's eyes ;
But he that 's smil'd upon by you,

Must all the world despise.
In winter, fires of little worth

Excite our dull desire;
But when the fun breaks kindly forth,

'Those fainter flames expire.
Then blame me not for flighting now

What I did once adore ; o, do but this one change allow,

And I can change no more :
Fixt by your never-failing charms,

Till I with age decay,
Till languishing within your arms,

I sigh my soul away.

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OH,
H, conceal that charming creature

From my wondering, wishing eyes !
Every motion, every feature

Does fome ravilh'd heart surprize;

But

But oh, I fighing, sighing, see
The happy twain ! she ne'er can be
Falle to him, or kind to me.

Yet, if I could humbly show her,

Ah! how wretched I remain;
'Tis not, fure, a thing below her,

Still to pity so much pain.
The gods some pleasure, pleasure take,
Happy as themselves to make
Those who suffer for their fake.

Since your hand alone was given

To a wretch not worth your care;
Like fome angel sent from heaven,

Come, and raise mi from despair ;
Your heart I cannot, cannot mils,
And I desire no other bliss;
Let all the world besides be his.

DE S P A IR.
ALL hopeless of relief,

Incapable of reft,
In vain I strive to vent a grief

That's not to be exprest.

This rage

within

my

veins No reason can remove; Of all the mind's most cruel pains,

I he tharpest, sure, is love.

D

Yct

Yet while I languish so,

And on thee vainly call; Take heed, fair cause of all my woe,

What fate may thee befall. Ungrateful, cruel faults

Suit not thy gentle sex; Hereafter, how will guilty thoughts

Thy tender conscience vex! When welcome Death shall bring

Relief to wretched me, My foul enlarg’d, and once on wing,

In haste will fly to thee. When in thy lonely bea

My ghost its moan shall make, With saddest signs that I am dead,

And dead for thy dear fake ;

Struck with that conscious blow,

Thy very soul will start :
Pale as my shadow thou wilt grow,

And cold as is thy heart,
Too late remorse will then

Untimely pity show
To him, who of all mcrtal men

Did most thy value know.

Yet, with this broken heart,

I wish thou never be Tormented with the thousandth part Of what I feel for thee.

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