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Compar'd with

her, all thidgs so worthless prove, Yet when I die, my last breath shall That nought on Earth can tow'rds her move, Grow bold, and plainly tell her all: Till 't be exalted by her love.

Like covetous men, who ne'er descry
Equal to her, alas! there's none;

Their dear-hid treasures till they die.
She like a deity is grown,

Ah, fairest maid! how will it cheer That must create, or else must be alone.

My ghost, to get from thee a tear! If there be man who thinks himself so high,

But take heed; for if me thou pitiest then, As to pretend equality,

Twenty to one but I shall live again. He deserves ber less than I;

For he would cheat for his relief; And one would give, with lesser grief,

THE GIVEN HEART. T' an undeserving beggar than a thief.

I wonder what those lovers mean, who say

They’ave given their hearts away:

Some good kind lover, tell me how :
No; thou 'rt a fool, I'll swear, if e'er thou grant; if so it be one place both hearts contain,

For mine is but a torment to me now,
Much of my veneration thou must want,
When once thy kindness puts my ignorance out;

For what do they complain?
For a learo'd age is always least devout.

What courtesy can love do more, Keep still thy distance; for at once to me Than to join hearts that parted were before? Goddess and woman too thou canst not be:

Woe to her stubborn heart, if once mine come
Thou 'rt queen of all that sees thee, and as such Into the self-same room;
Must neither tyrannize nor yield too much;

"Twill tear and blow up all within,
Such freedoms give as may admit command, Like a granado shot into a magazine.
But keep the forts and magazines in hand.
Thou 'rt yet a whole world to me, and dost fill

Then shall Love keep the ashes and torn parts

Of both our broken hearts;
My large ambition ; but 'tis dangerous still,
Lest I like the Pellæan prince should be,

Shall out of both one new one make,
And weep for other worlds, having conquer'd thee: From her's th’allay, from mine the metal, takea
When Love has taken all thou hast away, For of her heart he from the flames will find
His strength by too mych riches will decay,

But little left behind :
Thou in my fancy dost much higher stand,

Mine only will remain entire ;
Than women can be plac'd by Nature's hand; No dross was there, to perish in the fire.
And I must needs, I'm sure, a loser be,
To change thee, as thou'rt there, for very thee.
Thy sweetness is so much within me plac'd,
That, should'st thou nectar give, 'twould spoil the


Teach me to love! go teach thyself more wit; Beauty at first moves wonder and delight; 'Tis Nature's juggling trick to eheat the sight.

I chief professor am of it.

'Teach craft to Scots, and thrift to Jews, W'admire it whilst unknown; but after, more

Teach boldness to the stews;
Admire ourselves for liking it before.

In tyrants' courts teach supple flạttery;
Love, like a greedy hawk, if we give way,
Does over-gorge himself with bis own prey;

Teach Jesuits,' that have travell’d far, to lie;

Teach fire to burn, and winds to blow,
Of very hopes a surfeit he'll sustain,

Teach restless fountains how to flow,
Unless by fears he cast them up again :
His spirit and sweetness dangers keep alone;

Teach the dull Earth fixt to abide,
If once he lose his sting, he grows a drone.

Teach women-kind inconstancy and pride:
See if your diligence here will useful prove;

But, proythee, teach not me to love.

The god of love, if such a thing there be,

May learn to love from me; Some others may with safety tell

He who does boast that he has been The moderate flames which in them dwell; In every heart since Adani's sin; And either find some med'cine there, I'll lay my life, nay mistress, on't, that's more, Or cure themselves ev'n by despair; I'll teach him things he never knew before ; My love's so great, that it might prove

I'll teach him a receipt, to make Dangerous to tell her that I love.

Words that weep, and tears that speak; So tender is my wound, it must not bear

l'll teach him sighs, like those in death, Any salute, though of the kindest air.

At which the souls go out too with the breath: I would not have her know the pain,

Still the soul stays, yet still does from me run, The torments, for her I sustain;

As light and heat does with the Sun. Lest too much goodness make her throw 'Tis I who Love's Columbus am ; 'lis I Her love upon a fate too low.

Whô must new worlds in it desery; Forbid it, Heaven! my life should be

Rich worlds, that yield a treasure more Weighềd with her least conveniency:

Than all that has been known before, No, let me perish rather with my grief,

And yet like his, I fear, my fate must be, Than, to her disadvantage, find relief 1 To find them out for others, not for me

Me times to come, I know it, shall
Love's last and greatest prophet call;

But, ah! what's that, if she refuse
To hear the wholesome doctrines of my Muse;
If to my share the prophet's fate must come-

Hereafter fame, here martyrdom?

THE RESOLUTION. The Devil take those foolish men

Who gave you first such powers;

We stood on even grounds till then; If any odds, creation made it ours. For shame, let these weak chains be broke;

Let 's our slight bonds, like Samson, tear;

And nobly cast away thạt yoke, Which we nor our forefathers e'er could bear. French laws forbid the female reign ;

Yet Love does them to slavery draw:

Alas! if we'll our rights maintain, 'Tis all mankind must make a Salique law.

Lust, the scorching dog-star, here

Rages with immoderate heat;
Whilst Pride, the rugged northern bear,

In others makes the cold too great :

And where these are temperate known, The soil 's all barren sand or rocky stone. When once or twice you chanc'd to view

A rich, well-govern'd heart, Like China, it admitted you

But to the frontier-part.

From Paradise shut for evermore,
What good is 't that an angel kept the door?
Wel fare the pride, and the disdain,

And vanities, with beauty join'd;
I ne'er had seen this heart again,

If any fair-one had been kind :

My dove, but once let loose, I doubt Would ne'er return, had not the flood been out.

HA! ha! you think you ’ve kill'd my fame,
By this not understood, yet common, name :
A name that's full and proper, when assign'd

To woman-kind;

But, when you call us so,
It can at best but for a metaphor go.
Can you the shore inconstant call,
Which still, as waves pass by, embraces all ;
That had as lief the same waves always love,

Did they not from him move?

Or can you fault with pilots find For chapging course, yet never blame the wingt?

Since, drunk with vanity, you fell, The things turn'd round to you that stedfast

dwell; And you yourself, who from us take your flight,

Wonder to find us out of sight.

So the same errour seizes you,
As men in motion think the trees move too.

THE HEART FLED AGAIN. False, foolish Heart! didst thou nut say

That thou would'st never leave me more! Behold! again 'tis filed away,

Fled as far from me as before.

I struve to bring it back again;
I cry'd and hollow'd after it in vain.
Ev'n so the gentle Tyrian dame,

When neither grief nor love prevail,
Saw the dear object of her flame,

Th' ingrateful Trojan, hoist his sail :

Aloud she call'd to him to stay ;
The wind bore him and her lost words away.
The doleful Ariadne so,

On the wide shore forsaken stood :
“ False Theseus whither dost thou go?”

Afar false Theseus cut the flood.

But Bacchus came to her relief;
Bacchus himself 's too weak to ease my grief.
Ah! senseless Heart, to take no rest,

But travel thus eternally!
Thus to be froz’n in every breast !

And to be scorch'd in every eye!

Wandering about like wretched Cain, Thrust-out, ill-us'd, by all, þut by none slain ! Well, since thou wilt not here remain,

I'll e'en to live without thee try ; My head shall take the greater pain,

And all thy duties shall supply:

I can more easily live, I know,
Without thee, than without a mistress thou,

THE WELCOME, Go, let the fatted calf be kill'd; My prodigal's come home at last, With noble resolutions fill'd,

And fill'd with sorrow for the past :

No more will burn with love or wine; But quite has left his women and his swine. Welcome, ah! welcome, my poor Heart !

Welcome! I little thought, I'll swear ('Tis now so long since we did part)

Ever again to see thee here:

Dear wanderer! since from me you fled, How often have I heard that thou wert dead! Hast thou not found each woman's breast

(The lands where thou hast travelled) Either by savages possest,

Or wild, and uninhabited ?

What joy could'st take, or what repose, In countries so unciviliz'd as those?

Or I'm a very dunce, or woman-kind
Is a most unintelligible thing :
I can no sense nor no contexture find,

Nor their loose parts to method bring:
I know not what the learn'd may sce,

But they 're strange Hebrew things to me.
By customs and traditions they live,
And foolish ceremonies of antique date ;
We lovers, new and better doctrines give,

Yet they continue obstinate:
Preach we, Love's prophets, what we will,
Like Jews, they keep their old law still.

Before their mothers' gods they fondly fall,

THE RICH RIVAL. lain idol-gods, that have no sense nor mind :

Honour 's their Ashtaroth, and Pride their Baal, Hey say you're angry, and rant mightily,

Because I love the same as you :
The thundering Baal of woman-kind;
With twenty other devils more,

Alas ! you're very rich, 'tis true;
Which they, as we do them, adore.

But, pr’ythee, fool ! what's that to love and me?

You ’ave land and money, let that serve; But then, like men both covetous and devout, And know you'ave more by that than you deserve. Their costly superstition loth t omitAnd yet more loth to issue monies out,

When next I see my fair-one, she shall know At their own charge to furnish it

How worthless thou art of her bed; To these expensive deities

And,wretch! I'll strike thee dumb and dead, The hearts of men they sacrifice.

With noble verse not understood by you;

Whilst thy sole rhetoric shall be “ Jointure” and “jewels,” and “

our friends

agree.” THE SOUL.

Poxo' your friends, that doat and domineer;

Lovers are better friends than they ;

Let's those in other things obey; Soxe dull philosopher—when he hears me say The fates, and stars, and gods, must govern My soul is from me fled away,

here, Nor has of late inform’d my body here,

Vain names of blood! in love let none
But in another's breast does lie,

Advise with any blood, but with their own.
That neither is, nor will be, I,
As a form servient and assisting there

Tis that which bids me this bright maid adore;

No other thought has had access! Will cry, “ Absurd !” and ask me how I live; Did she now beg, I'd love no less, And syllogisms against it give.

And, were she an empress, I should love no more ; A curse on all your vain philosophies,

Were she as just and true to me, Which on weak Nature's law depend, Ah, simple soul ! what would become of thee?

And know not how to comprehend
Love and religion, those great mysteries !
Her body is my soul; laugh not at this,
For by my life I swear it is.

Tis that preserves my being and my breath;
From that proceeds all that I do,

Hope! whose weak being ruin'd is,
Nay all my thoughts and speeches too ;

Alike, if it succeed, and if it miss;
And separation from it is my death.

Whom good or ill does equally confound,
And both the horns of Fate's dilemma wound:

Vain shadow! which does vanish quite,

Both at full noon and perfect night !

The stars have not a possibility

Of blessing thee; Tu'd with the rough denials of my prayer,

If things then from their end we happy call, From that hard she whom I obey ;

'Tis Hope is the most hopeless thing of all, I come, and find a nymph much gentler here, Hope ! thou bold taster of delight, That gives consent to all I say.

Who, whilst thou should'st but taste, devour'st Ah, gentle nymph! who lik’st so well

it quite ! In hollow, solitary caves to dwell;

Thou bring'st us an estate, yet leav'st us poor, Her heart being such, into it go,

By clogging it with legacies before ! And do but once from thence answer me so !

The joys which we entire should wed, Complaisant nymph! who dost thus kindly

Come deflower'd virgins to our bel; share

Good fortunes without gain imported be, In griefs whose cause thou dost not know;

Such mighty custom's paid to thee. Hailst thou but eyes, as well as tongue and ear,

For joy, like wine, kept close does better taste; How much compassion would'st thou show! If it take air before, its spirits waste. Thy flame, whilst living, or a flower,

Hope! Fortune's cheating lottery ! Was of less beauty, and less ravishing power. Where for one prize an hundred blanks there be; Alas ! I might as easily

Fond archer, Hope! who tak'st thy aim so far, Paint thee to her, as describe her to thee, That still or short or wide thine arrows are ! By repercussion beams engender fire ;

Thin, empty cloud, wbich th' eye deceives Shapes by reflection shapes beget;

With shapes that our own fancy gives ! The voice itself, when stopt, does back retire,

A cloud, which gilt and painted now appears, And a new voice is made by it.

But must drop presently in tears ! Thus things by opposition

When thy false bcams o'er Reason's light prevail, The gainers grow; my barren love alone

By ignes fatui for north-stars we sail. Does from her stony breast rebound,

Brother of Fear, more gayly clad ! Pralucing neither image, fire, nor sound. The merrier fool o'th' two, yet quite as mad:


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Sire of Repentance! child of fond Desire!

What ill returns dost thou allow ! That blow'st the chymics', and the lovers', fire, I fed thee then, and thou dost starve, me now. Leading them still insensibly' on

There was a time when thou wast cold and chill, By the strange witchcraft of “anon !"

Nor hadst the power of doing ill;
By thee the one does changing Nature, through

Into my bosom did I take
Her endless labyrinths, pursue ;

This frozen and benumbed snake,
And th’ other chases woman, whilst she goes
More ways and turns than hunted Nature knows. But now it stings

that breast which made it warm.
Not fearing from it any harm;
What cursed weed's this Love! but one grain sow,

And the whole field 'twill overgrow;

Straight will it choak up and devour
Hope! of all ills that men endure,

Each wholesome herb and beauteous flower! The only cheap and universal cure! [health!

Nay, unless something soon I do,
Thou captive's freedom, and thou sick man's 'Twill kill, I fear, my very laurel too,
Thou loser's victory, and thou beggar's wealth! But now all's gone- I now, alas! complain,

Thou manna, which from Heaven we eat, Declare, protest, and threat, in vain;
To every taste a several meat!

Since, by my own unforc'd consent,
Thou strong retreat! thou sure-entail'd estate, The traitor has my government,
Which nought has power to alienate!

And is so settled in the throne, Thou pleasant, honest Aatterer! for none That 'twere rebellion now to claim mine own. Flatter unbappy men, but thou alone!

Hope! thou first-fruits of happiness !
Thou gentle dawning of a bright success !

Thou good preparative, without which our joy
Does work too strong, and, whilst it curos, de-I know 'tis sordid, and 'tis low,

(All this as well as you I know)
Who out of Fortune's reach dost stand,

Which I so hotly now pursue,
And art a blessing still in hand !

(I know all this as well as you) Whilst thee, her earnest-money, we retain,

But, whilst this cursed flesh I bear,
We certain are to gain,

And all the weakness and the baseness there, Whether she her bargain break, or else fulfil;

Alas! alas ! it will be always so,
Thou only good, not worse for ending ill!

In vain, exceedingly in vain,
Brother of Faith! 'twixt whom and thee I rage sometimes, and bite my chain;
The joys of Heaven and Earth divided be!

Yet to what purpose do I bite
Though Faith be heir, and have the fixt estate,

With teeth which ne'er will break it quite ! Thy portion yet in moveables is great,

For, if the chiefest Christian head
Happiness itself's all one

Was by this sturdy tyrant buffeted,
In thee, or in possession!

What wonder is it if weak I be slain ?
Only the future's thine, the present his !

Thine's the more hard and noble bliss : Best apprehender of our joys! which hast

So long a reach, and yet canst hold so fast!

As water fluid is, till it do grow
Hope! thou sad lovers' only friend !
Thou Way, that may'st te it with the End !

Solid and fixt by cold;
For love, I fear, 's a fruit that does delight

So in warm seasons Love does loosely flow; The taste itself less than the smell and sight,

Frost only can it hold:
Fruition more deceitful is

A woman's rigour and disdain
Than thou canst be, when thou dost miss;

Does his swift course restrain.
Men Jeave thee by obtaining, and straight fice Though constant and consistent now it be,
Some other way again to thee;

Yet, when kind bcams appear,
And that's a pleasant country, without doubt, It melts, and glides apace into the sea,
To which all soon return that travel out.

And loses itself there.
So the Sun's amorous play

Kisses the ice away.

You may in vulgar loves find always this:

But my subsiantial love
I lritle thought, thou fond ingrateful sin! Of a more firm a , perfect nature is ;
When first I let thee in,

No weathers can it move :
And gave thee but a part

Though heat dissolve the ice again,
In my unwary hcari,

The crystal solid does remain.
That thou would'st e'er have grown
So false or strong to make it all thine own.
At mine own breast with care I fed thee still,

Letting thee suck thy fill;
And daintily I nourish'd thee

Tuen like some wealthy island thou shalt lie, With idle thoughts and poetry!

And like the sea about it, I;

Thou, like fair Albion to the sailor's sight, Here black, there bronn, here tawny, and there Spreading her beauteous bosom all in white;

white; Like the kind Ocean I will be,

Thou flatterer! which comply'st with every sight | With loving arms for ever clasping thee.

Thou Babel, which confound'st the eye

With unintelligible variety!
But I'll embrace thee gentlier far than so;
As their fresh banks soft rivers do :

Who hast no certain what, nor where ;
Nor shall the proudest planet boast a power

But vary'st still, and dost thyself declare Of making my full love to ebb one hour;

Inconstant, as thy she-professors are. It never dry or low can prove,

Beauty ! Love's scene and masquerade, Whilst thy unwasted fountain feeds my love. So gay by well-plac'd lights and distance made Such heat and vigour shall our kisses bear,

Palse coin, with which th'impostor cheats us still ; As if like doves w' engender'd there:

The stamp and colour good, but metal ill! No bound nor rule my pleasures shall endure,

Which light or base we find, when we In love there's none too much an epicure:

Weigh by enjoyment, and examine thee! Nought shall my hands or lips control;

For, though thy being be but show, I'll kiss thee through, I'll kiss thy very soul.

'Tis chiefly night which men to thee allow :

And chuse t'enjoy thee, when thou least art Thou. Yet nothing but the Night our sports shall know;" Night, that's both blind and silent too!

Beauty! thou active, passive ill ! Alpheus fuund not a inore secret trace,

Which dy'st thyself as fast as thou dost kill! His lord Sicanian fountain to embrace,

Thou tulip, who thy stock in paint dost waste, Creeping so far beneath the sea,

Nether for physic good, nor smell, nor taste. Than I will do t'enjoy and feast on thee.

Beauty! whose flames but meteors are,

Short-liv'd and low, though thou would'st seem. Men, out of wisdom; women, out of pride,

a star; The pleasant thefts of love do hide:

Who dar'st not thine own home descry,
That may secure thee; but thou 'ast yet from me Pretending to dwell richly in the eye,
A more infallible security;

When thou, alas ! dost in the fancy lie.
For there's no danger I should tell
The joys which are to me unspeakable.

Beauty! whose conquests still are made
O'er hearts by cowards kept, or else betray'd;
Weak victor! who thyself destroy'd must be

When Sickness storms, or Time besieges thee! SLEEP.

Thou unwholesome thaw to frozen age! Ix vain, thou drowsy god! I thee invoke ;

Thou strong wine, which youth's fever dost en. For thou, who dost from fumes arise


Thou tyrant, which leav'st no man free!
Thou, who man's soul dost overshade
With a thick cloud by vapours made-

Thou subtle

thief, from whom nought safe can be ! Canst have no power to shut his eyes,

Thou murderer, which hast kill'd, and devil, which

would'st damn me!
Or passage of his spirits to choke,
Whose flame's so pure that it sends up no smoke.
Yet how do tears but from such vapours rise ?
Tears, that bewinter all my year?

The fate of Egypt I sustain,
And never feel the dew of rain,

As men in Greenland left beheld the Sun
From clouds which in the head appear;

From their horizon run,
But all my too much moisture owe

And thought upon the sad half-year
To overflowings of the heart below.

Of cold and darkness they must suffer there : Thou, who dost men (as nights to colours do) So on my parting mistress did I look; Bring all to an equality!

With such swoln eyes my farewell took :
Come, thou just god! and equal me

Ah, my fair star! said I;
Awhile to my disdainful She:

Ah, those blest lands to which bright Thou dost
In that condition let me lie,
Till Love does me the favour shew:

In vain the men of learning comfort me, Love equals all a better way than you.

And say I'm in a warm degree; Then never more shalt thou b'invok'd by me; Say what they please, I say and swear

Watchful as spirits and gods I'll prove: 'Tis beyond eighty at least, if you 're not here.
Let her but grant, and then will I

It is, it is; I tremble with the frust,
Thee and thy kinsman Death defy;

And know that I the day have lost;
For, betwixt thee and them that love,

And those wild things which men they call, Never will an agreement be;

I find to be but bears or foxes all. Thou scorn’st th’ unhappy, and the happy, thee!

Return, return, gay planet of mine East,

Of all that shines thon much the best!

And, as thou now descend'st to sea,

More fair and fresh rise up from thence to me! BEAUTY! thou wild fantastic ape,

Thou, who in many a propriety, Who dost in every country change thy shape! So truly art the Sun to me,


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