Fool that I was! who, having found

も A rich and funny diamond,

Admir'd the hardness of the stone,

But not the light with which it fhone :

Your brave and haughty fcorn of all
Was ftately and monarchical.

All gentleness, with that esteem'd,
A dull and flavish virtue feem'd;
Should'st thou have yielded then to me,
Thou 'dft loft what I most lov'd in thee;
For who would ferve one, whom he fees
That he can conquer if he please ?
It far'd with me, as if a slave
In triumph led, that does perceive
With what a gay majestic pride

His conqueror through the streets does ride,
Should be contented with his woe,
Which makes up fuch a comely fhow.
I fought not from thee a return,
But without hopes or fears did burn ;
My covetous paffion did approve
The hoarding-up, not ufe, of love.
My love a kind of dream was grown,
A foolish, but a pleasant one :

From which I 'm waken'd now; but, oh!
Prifoners to die are waken'd fo;

For now th' effects of loving are
Nothing but longings, with despair :
Defpair, whofe torments no men, fure,
But lovers and the damn'd, endure.

Her fcorn I doated once upon,
Ill object for affection;

But fince, alas! too much 'tis prov'd,
That yet 'twas fomething that I lov'd;
Now my defires are worse, and fly
At an impoffibility:

Defires, which, whilft fo high they foar,
Are proud as that I lov'd before.
What lover can like me complain,

Who first lov'd vainly, next in vain!

I

F mine eyes do e'er declare

They 've seen a second thing that 's fair

Or ears,

that they have musick found,

Befides thy voice, in any found;

If

my tafte do ever meet,

After thy kifs, with aught that 's fweet;

If

my abused touch allow

Aught to be smooth, or foft, but you ;
If what seasonable springs,

Or the Eastern fummer, brings,

Do my

fmell perfuade at all

Aught perfume, but thy breath, to call;
If all my fenfes' objects be

Not contracted into thee,

And fo through thee more powerful pafs,
As beams do through a burning-glafs ;
If all things that in nature are
Either foft, or sweet, or fair,

Be not in thee fo' epitomis'd,

That nought material 's not compris'd;
May I as worthlefs feem to thee
As all, but thou, appears to me!

If I ever anger know,

Till fome wrong be done to you;
If Gods or Kings my envy move,
Without their crowns crown'd by thy love;
If ever I an hope. admit,

Without thy image ftamp'd on it;

Or any fear,. till I begin

'To find that you 're concern'd therein.;,

If a joy e'er come to me,

That taftes of any thing but thee;

If any forrow touch my mind,

Whilft you are well, and not unkind;
If I a minute's space debate,

Whether I fhall curfe and hate

The things beneath thy hatred fall,
Though all the world, myself and all
And for love-if ever I
Approach to it again so nigh,
As to allow a toleration

To the least glimmering inclination ::
If thou alone doft not control
All those tyrants of my foul,
And to thy beauties ty'ft them fo,.
That conftant they as habits grow ;;
If any paffion of my heart,

By any force, or any art,

Be

Be brought to move one step from thee,
May'st thou no paffion have for me!

If my bufy' Imagination,

Do not thee in all things fashion
So that all fair species be
Hieroglyphic marks of thee;
If when she her sports does keep
(The lower foul being all asleep)
She play one dream, with all her art,
Where thou haft not the longest part;
If aught get place in my remembrance,
Without some badge of thy resemblance—
So that thy parts become to me
A kind of art of memory ;—
If my Understanding do

Seek any knowledge but of you;
If the do near thy body prize
Her bodies of philofophies;
If the to the Will do fhew
Aught defirable but you;
Or, if that would not rebel,

Should the another doctrine tell 3

If

my Will do not refign

All her liberty to thine;

If the would not follow thee,

Though Fate and thou should'st disagree;

And if (for I a curfe will give,
Such as fhall force thee to believe)
My foul be not entirely thine;
May thy dear body ne'er be mine!

FROM

ROM Hate, Fear, Hope, Anger, and Envy, free,
And all the paffions elfe that be,
In vain I boaft of liberty,

In vain this ftate a freedom call;

Since I have Love, and Love is all...
Sot that I am, who think it fit to brag
That I have no difcafe befides the plague!
So in a zeal the fons of Ifrael

Sometimes upon their idols fell,
And they depos'd the powers of hell
Baal and Aftarte down they threw,
And Acharon and Moloch too :

All this imperfect piety did no good,
Whilft yet, alas! the calf of Bethel stood.

Fondly I boaft, that I have dreft my vine
With painful art, and that the wine
Is of a taste rich and divine;

Since Love, by mixing poison there,
Has made it worse than vinegar.

"Love ev❜n the tafte of Nectar changes fo,
That Gods chuse rather water here below.

Fear, Anger, Hope, all paffions else that be
Drive this one tyrant out of me,
And practise all your tyranny!

The change of ills fome good will do:
Th' oppreffed wretched Indians fo,

Being flaves by the great Spanish monarch made,

Call in the States of Holland to their aid.

WISDOM,