in vain! torments the present and the past: in vain ! in vain! twice did I sadly cry; for I to shades more dark and silent go: no comfort to my wounded sight, down on cold earth, and for awhile was dead, Ah! sottish soul ! said I, when back to' its cage again I saw it fly : fool! to resume her broken chain, and row her galley here again! fool! to that body to return where it condemn'd and destin'd is to burn! once dead, how can it be death should a thing so pleasant seem to thee, that thou shouldst come to live it o'er again in me? THE WISH. Well, then, I now do plainly see, this busy world and I shall ne'er agree; the very honey of all earthly joy Ah! yet, e'er I descend to th' grave, and a few friends, and many books, both true, both wise, and both delightful too! and since Love ne'er will from me flee, a mistress moderately fair, and good as guardian angels are, only belov'd, and loving me! Oh! Fountains! when in you shall I myself, eas'd of unpeaceful thoughts, espy? Oh Fields! oh Woods! when, when shall I be made the happy tenant of your shade? Here's the spring-head of Pleasure's flood, where all the riches lie that she has coin'd and stamp'd for good. Pride and ambition here, only in far-fetch'd metaphors appear; here nought but winds can hurtful murmurs scatter, and nought but Echo flatter. The gods, when they descended hither from heav'n, did always choose their way; and therefore we may boldly say, that 't is the way, too, thither. How happy here should I and one dear she, live, and embracing die? I should have then this only fear, RESOLVED TO BE BELOVED. 'Tis true, l'ave lov'd already three or four, I'll love each fair one that I see, till I find one at last that shall love me. the country does with milk and honey flow. it never more abroad shall roam, tho' it could next voyage bring th' Indies home. But I must sweat in love and labour yet, till I a competency get; they're slothful fools who leave a trade, till they a moderate fortune by 't have made. Variety I ask not; give me one to live perpetually upon. The person Love does to us fit, like manna, has the taste of all in it. AGAINST HOPE. Hope, whose weak being ruin'd is, alike if it succeed and if it miss, whom good or ill does equally confound, and both the horns of Fate's dilemma wound; vain shadow! which dost vanish quite, both at full noon and perf ect night! the stars have not a possibility of blessing thee: if things, then, from their end we happy call, 'tis Hope is the most hopeless thing of all. Hope! thou bold taster of delight, who, whilst thou should'st but taste, devour'st it quite! thou bring'st us an estate, yet leav'st us poor, by clogging it with legacies before! the joys which we entire should wed, come deflow'red virgins to our bed. Good fortunes without gain imported be, such mighty customs paid to thee: for joy, like wine, kept close does better taste; if it take air before, its spirits waste. Hope! Fortune's cheating lottery! where for one prize an hundred blanks there be; when thy false beams o'er Reason's light prevail, Brother of Fear! more gayly clad; the merrier fool o' th' two, yet quite as mad ; sire of repentance! child of fond Desire! that blow'st the chemic's and the lover's fire! leading them still insensibly' on by the strange witchcraft of Anon! by thee the one does changing Nature through and th'other chases woman, whilst she goes FOR HOPE. Hope, of all ills that men endure, the only cheap and universal cure! thou captive's freedom! and thou sick man's health! thou loser's vict'ry! and thou beggar's wealth! thou manna, which from heav'n we eat, to ev'ry taste a sev'ral meat! thou strong retreat! thou sure entail'd estate, Hope! thou first-fruits of happiness! and art a blessing still in hand! whilst thee, her earnest-money, we retain, whether she her bargain break or else fulfil; in thee or in possession ! only the future is thine, the present his! 3 |