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Mean-while a howling Wolf, with Hunger preft,

Leap'd on the Wretch, and feiz'd him by the Breaft;

Tore out his Heart, and lick'd the purple Flood; For Earth refus'd to drink the Villain's Blood.

The TEST of LovE.

To a Friend who fancied himself in LOVE.
By Mr. AMHURST.

FT haft thou told me, Dick, in friendly
Part,

O F1

That the Ufurper Love has feiz'd thy Heart;
But thou art young, and, like our fanguine
Race,

In their full Vigour, may'st mistake thy Cafe;
For, truft me, Love (that Inmate of the Mind)
Is very much mistaken by Mankind;
For which too often is misunderstood

The fudden Rage and Madness of the Blood:
Thus every common Rake his Flame ap-

proves,

And when he's lewd and rampant, thinks

he loves.

But

But I, who in that Study am grown old, Will to my Friend fuch certain Marks unfold, By which a real Paffion he may prove, And without which he cannot truly love.

How does this Tyrant lord it in thy Mind? What Symptoms of his Empire doft thou find? Doft thou within perceive the growing Wound? Does thy Soul ficken, while thy Body's found? Does in thy Thought fome blooming Beauty reign,

Whofe ftrong Idea mingles Joy with Pain? When she appears before thee, does she spread O'er thy pale, fading Cheeks a fudden Red? Prefs her foft Lips, or touch her lillied Hand, Does thy Heart flutter, does thy Breast expand? If but her Name is mention'd, does it fire Thy Pulfes with a quick and fierce Defire? Does every Glance, like Jove's vindictive Flame,

Shoot thro' thy Veins, and kindle all thy Frame? From hence a real Paffion you may prove, For he, who wants these Symptoms, does not love.

Is to One Woman all your Heart inclin'd? And can fhe only charm your conftant Mind? For her do all your Morning Wishes rise? Does the at Night of Slumber rob your Eyes? Mufing on her, does fhe alone excite Your Thoughts by Day, and all your Dreams by Night?

Or does your Heart, for every Nymph you meet,
Own a new Paffion, and as ftrongly beat?
Do in your Eyes all Women seem the fame;
And each new Face expel the former Flame?

From hence a real Paffion you may prove,
If you love more than One, you do not

love.

Does Love, and only Love, invade your
Heart?

Or is it ftricken with a golden Dart?
Does the keen Arrow from her Beauty fly,
Or does her Fortune glitter in your Eye?
For, in this Age, how feldom is it found,
That Love alone inflicts the fecret Wound?
Silver and Gold are Cupid's furest Arms,
One thousand Pounds out-weighs ten thousand
Charms.

But art thou fure that, in thy tender Heart,
Thefe worldly Baubles bear no fordid Part?
And can't thou fay, fincerely can't thou say,
Should adverse Fortune on thy Charmer prey,'
That ftill unchang'd, thy Paffion would re-
main?

That still thou would'ft abide a faithful Swain? If, in the curft South-Sea, her All were loft, Still would her Eyes their former Conquests boaft?

And would she, doft thou think, in ev'ry State, The fame Emotions in thy Soul create ?

From

From hence a real Paffion you may prove,›

For if you figh for Wealth, you do not love. Again, my Friend, incline thy patient Ear, (For thou haft many Questions still to hear) This chofen Damfel, this triumphant she, Canft thou no Blemish in her Perfon fee? Her Temper, Shape, her Features, and her Air, (Tho' never yet was born a faultlefs Fair) Do they all please? In Body or in Mind, Canft thou no Blot nor Imperfection find?" Does o'er her Skin no Mole nor Pimple rife?" Or do ev'n these feem Beauties in thy Eyes?

From hence a real Paffion you may prove,

For if you spy one Fault, you do not love.
Do you within, a fudden Impulse feel,
To drefs, look florid, and appear genteel?
Do you affect to strike the gazing Maid
With glittering Gems, with Velvet and Ero-
cade?

Your fnowy Wrifts do Mecklin Pendants grace,
And do the smarteft Wigs adorn thy Face?
Do you correct your Gait, adjust your Air,
And bid your Taylor take uncommon Care ?
Before your Glaís each Morning do you stand,;
And tie your Neck-cloth with a Critic's Hand?.

From hence a real Paffion you may prove,
For Dreffing ever was a Mark of Love.
Do Books and worldly Cares no longer
please?

Can no Diverfions give your Heart-pains Eafe?`

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Have Wealth and Honours loft their wonted

Charms?

And does Ambition yield to Cupid's Arms ? ̈ Is your whole Frame diffolv'd, by Love ingroft,

To Study, Intereft, and Preferment loft?

From hence a real Paffion you may prove,
For if aught elfe prevails, you do not love.
Do all your Thoughts, your Wishes, and
Defires,

Comply with her, and burn with mutual Fires?
If the loves Balls, Affemblies, Opera's, Plays,
Do they in you the fame Amusement raise ?
If the at Ombre loves to waste the Night,
Do you in Ombre take the fame Delight?
If to the Ring her graceful Horfes prance,
Does your new Chariot to the Ring advance?
If in the Mall fhe chufes to appear,

Or if at Court, do you attend her there?
What the commends, does your officious
Tongue

Approve, and cenfure what fhe judges wrong?
Are all her Loves and her Averfions thine?
In all her Joys and Sorrows doft thou join ?
Art thou, my Friend, united to her Frame,
Thy Heart, thy Paffions, and thy Soul the
Lame?

From hence a real Paffion you may prove,
For without Sympathy you cannot love.

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