On Apprehenfion of lofing what he had newly
URE I of all men am the first
That ever was by kindness curít,
Who muft my only blifs bemoan,
And am by happiness undone.
Had I at diftance only feen
That lovely face, I might have been
With the delightful object pleas'd,
But not with all this passion seiz'd.
When afterwards fo near I came
As to be fcorch'd in beauty's flame;
To fo much foftnefs, fo much fenfe,
Reafon itself made no defence.
What pleafing thoughts poffefs'd my mind
When little favours fhew'd you kind!
And though, when coldness oft' prevail'd,
My heart would fink, and spirits fail'd,
Yet willingly the yoke I bore,
And all your chains as bracelets wore :
At your lov'd feet all day would lie,
Defiring, without knowing why;
For, not yet bleft within your arms,
Who could have thought of half
D 2
Charms of fuch a wondrous kind,
Words we cannot, muft not find,
A body worthy of your mind.
Fancy could ne'er so high reflect,
Nor love itfelf fuch joys expect.
After fuch embraces past,
Whole memory will ever laft,
Love is still reflecting back ;
All my foul is on a rack :
To be in hell's fufficient curfe,
But to fall from heaven is worse.
I liv'd in grief ere this I knew,
But then I dwelt in darkness too.
Of gains, alas! I could not boast;
But little thought how much I lost.
Now heart-devouring eagerness,
And sharp impatience to poffefs;
Now reftlefs cares, confuming fires,
Anxious thoughts, and fierce defires,
Tear my heart to that degree,
For ever fix'd on only thee :
Then all my comfort is, I fhall
Live in thy arms, or not at all.
NOME, let us now refolve at last To live and love in quiet; We'll tie the knot so very fast,
That Time fhall ne'er untie it.
The trueft joys they feldom prove,
Who free from quarrels live; 'Tis the most tender part of love,
Each other to forgive.
When leaft I feem'd concern'd, I took
No pleasure, nor no rest;
And when I feign'd an angry look,
Alas! I lov'd you best.
Own but the fame to me, you'll find
How bleft will be our fate;
Oh, to be happy, to be kind,
Sure never is too late.
ROM all uneafy paffions free,
Revenge, ambition, jealousy,
Contented I had been too bleft,
If love and you had let me reft:
Yet that dull life I now defpife ;
Safe from your eyes,
I fear'd no griefs, but then I found no joys.
Amidst a thousand kind defires,
Which beauty moves, and love infpires;
Such pangs I feel of tender fear,
No heart fo foft as mine can bear:
Yet I'll defy the worst of harms;
Such are your charms,
Tis worth a life to die within your arms.
FROM wars and plagues come no fuch harms,
As from a nymph fo full of charms;
So much fweetnefs in her face,
In her motions fuch a grace,
In her kind inviting eyes
Such a foft enchantment lies;
That we please ourselves too foon,
And are with empty hopes undone.
After all her foftness, we
Are but flaves, while fhe is free;
Free, alas! from all defire,
Except to fet the world on fire.
Thou, fair diffembler, doft but thus
Deceive thyfelf, as well as us.
Like a reftlefs monarch, thou
Wouldft rather force mankind to bow,
And venture round the world to roam,
Than govern peaceably at home.
But truft me, Celia, truft me, when
Apollo's felf infpires my pen,
One hour of love's delight out-weighs
Whole years of universal praise;
And one adorer, kindly us'd,
Gives truer joys than crowds refus'd.
For what does youth and beauty serve ?
Why more than all your fex deferve ?
Why fuch foft alluring arts
To charm our eyes, and melt our hearts?
By our lofs you nothing gain :
Unless you love, you please in vain.
THE RELAPSE.
LIKE children in a starry night,
When I beheld thofe eyes before,
I gaz'd with wonder and delight,
Infenfible of all their power.
I play'd about the flame fo long,
At last I felt the scorching fire;
My hopes were weak, my paffion ftrong,
And I lay dying with defire.
By all the helps of human art,
I just recover'd fo much fenfe,
As to avoid, with heavy heart,
The fair, but fatal, influence.
But, fince you fhine away despair,
And now my fighs no longer fhun,.
No Perfian in his zealous prayer
So much adores the rifing fun..
If once again my vows difplease,
There never was fo loft a lover;
In love, that languishing difeafe,
A fad relapfe we ne'er recover..
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