Which oft' I fear'd I did not mind alone,
And blushing fat for things which you have done;
Then murmur'd to myfelf, He 'll for my fake
Do any thing, I hope 'twas no mistake.
Oft have I read within this pleasant grove,
Under my name, these charming words, I love.
I, frowning, feem'd not to believe your flame,
But now, alas! am come to write the fame.
If I were capable to do amifs,
I could not but be fenfible of this.
For, oh your face has fuch peculiar charms,
That who can hold from flying to your arms!
But what I ne'er can have without offence,
May fome bleft maid poffefs with innocence.
Pleasure may tempt, but virtue more should move;
Oh! learn of me to want the thing you love.
What you defire is fought by all mankind ;
As you have eyes, fo others are not blind :
Like you they fee, like you my charms adore ;
They wish not lefs, but you dare venture more.
Oh! had you then upon our coafts been brought,
My virgin love when thousand rivals fought,
You had I feen, you fhould have had my voice,
Nor could my husband juftly blame my choice.
For both our hopes, alas! you came too late,
Another now is mafter of my fate :
More to my wish I could have liv'd with you,
And yet my prefent lot can undergo.
Ceafe to folicit a weak woman's will,
And urge not her you love to fo much ill;
But let me live contented as I may,
And make not my unfpotted fame your prey :
Some right you claim, fince naked to your eyes
Three goddeffes difputed beauty's prize :
One offer'd valour, t' other crowns; but she
Obtain'd her caufe, who fmiling promis'd me.
But, first, I am not of belief so light,
To think fuch nymphs would fhew you fuch a fight:
Yet, granting this, the other part is feign'd,
A bribe fo mean your fentence had not gain'd.
With partial eyes I should myself regard,
To think that Venus made me her reward;
I humbly am content with human praise,
A goddefs's applaufe would envy raise :
But be it as you fay; for 'tis confeft,
The men who flatter highest please us beft:
That I fufpect it ought not to difpleafe,
For miracles are not believ'd with eafe.
One joy I have, that I had Venus' voice;
A greater yet, that you confirm'd her choice;
That proffer'd laurels, promis'd fovereignty,
Juno and Pallas, you contemn'd for me.
Am I your empire then, and your renown?
What heart of rock but muft by this be won?
And yet bear witnefs, O ye powers above,
How rude I am in all the arts of love!
My hand is yet untaught to write to men,
This is th' effay of my unpractis'd pen:
Happy those nymphs whom ufe has perfect made,
I think all crime, and tremble at a shade:
Ev'n while I write, my fearful confcious eyes
Look often back, mifdoubting a surprize :
For now the rumour spreads among the croud,'
At court in whispers, but in town aloud.
whate'er you hear them fay:
To leave off loving were your better way;
Yet, if will diffemble it, you may.
Love fecretly: the abfence of lord
my
More freedom gives, but does not all afford:
Long is his journey, long will be his stay,
Call'd by affairs of confequence away :
To go or not, when unrefolv'd he stood,
I bid him make what swift return he could:
Then kiffing me, he faid, I recommend
All to thy care, but moft my Trojan friend.
I fmil'd at what he innocently faid,
And only anfwer'd, You fhall be obey'd.
Propitious winds have borne him far from hence,
But let not this fecure
your confidence:
Abfent he is, yet abfent he commands:
You know the proverb, "Princes have long hands."
My fame 's my burden, for the more I 'm prais'd
A juster ground of jealousy is rais'd:
Were I lefs fair, I might have been more bleft,
Great beauty through great danger is poffeft.
To leave me here, his venture was not hard,
Because he thought my virtue was my guard :
He fear'd my face, but trufted to my life,
The beauty doubted, but believ'd the wife.
You bid me ufe th' occafion while I can,
Put in our hands by the good easy man.
I would, and yet I doubt 'twixt love and fear;
One draws me from you, and one brings me near,
Our flames are mutual, and my husband 's gone :
The nights are long; I fear to lie alone;
One houfe contains us, and weak walls divide,
And you 're too preffing to be long deny`d.
Let me not live, but every thing confpires
To join our loves, and yet my fear retires.
You court with words, when you should force employ; A rape is requifite to fhame-fac'd joy:
Indulgent to the wrongs which we receive,
Our fex can fuffer what we dare not give.
What have I faid! for both of us 't were beft,
Our kindling fire if each of us fuppreft.
The faith of strangers is too prone to change,
And, like themselves, their wandering paffions range.
Hypfipyla, and the fond Minoian maid,
Were both by trufting of their guest betray'd:
Fow can I doubt that other men deceive,
When you yourself did fair Oenone leave?
But, left I should upbraid your treachery,
You make a merit of that crime to me.
You grant you were to faithful love inclin'd,
Your weary Trojans wait but for a wind.
Should you prevail, while I affign the night,
Your fails are hoifted, and you take your flight;
Some bawling mariner our love destroys,
And breaks afunder our unfinish'd joys.
But I with you may leave the Spartan port,
To view the Trojan wealth and Priam's court.
Shown while I fee, I fhall expofe my fame,
And fill a foreign country with my shame.
In Afia what reception fhall I find?
And what difhonour leave in Greece behind?
What will your brothers, Priam, Hecuba,
And what will all your modeft matrons fay?
Ev'n you, when on this action you reflect,
My future conduct justly may fufpe&;
And whate'er ftranger lands upon your coast,
Conclude me, by your own example, loft.
I, from your rage, a ftrumpet's name shall hear,
While you forget what part in it you bear:
You, my crime's author, will my crime upbraid:
Deep under ground, oh! let me first be laid!
You boast the pomp and plenty of your land,
And promife all shall be at my command:
Your Trojan wealth, believe me, I despise;
My own poor native land has dearer ties.
Should I be injur'd on your Phrygian shore,
What help of kindred could I there implore ?
Medea was by Jafon's flattery won;
1 may, like her, believe and be undone.
Plain honeft hearts, like mine, suspect no cheat,
And love contributes to its own deceit.
The ships, about whofe fides loud tempests roar,
With gentle winds were wafted from the shore.
Your teeming mother dreamt a flaming brand,
Sprung from her womb, confum'd the Trojan land;
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