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CALLED IN CONSTANT.
A! ha! you think you've kill'd my fame,
By this not understood, yet common, name i
But, when you call us fo,
Can you the shore inconftant call,
Did they not from him move ?
Or can you fault with pilots find
Since, drunk with vanity, you fell,
Wonder to find us out of sight.
So the fame error leizes you,
My prodigal's come home at last,With noble resolutions fillid,
And fillid 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!
Haft thou not found each woman's breast
(The lands where thou hast travelled) Either by favages poffeft,
Or wild and uninhabited ?
Lust, the scorching dog-star, here
Rages with immoderate heat ;
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,
Well 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
THE HEART FLED AGAIN.
TALSE, foolish heart! didst thou not say,
That thou would'st never leave me more ?: Behold! again 'tis filed away,
Fled as far from me as before.
I strove to bring it back again;
When neither grief nor love prevail,
Th’ingrateful Trojan, hoist his fail :
Aloud she callid to him to stay ;
On the wide shore forsaken stood :
Afar false Theseus cut the flood.
But Bacchus came to her relief;
Ah! Ah! senseless heart, to take no reft,
But travel thus éternally!
And to be scorch'd in every eýe !
Wandering about like wretched Cain, Thrust-out, ill-us’d, by all, but by none flain!
Well, since thou wilt not here remain,
I'll e’en to live without theè try; My head fall take the greater pain,
And all thy duties shall fupplý:
I can more eafily, live, I know,
R I'm a very dunce, or woman-kind
Is a most unintelligible thing:
Nor their loose parts to method bring:
But they 're strange Hebrew things to me.
Yet they continue obstinate :
Before their mothers' Gods they fondly fall,
The thundering Baal of woman-kind :
Which they, as we do them, adore.
At their own charge to furnish it
THE SO V L.
TOME dull philosopher--when he hears me fay
My soul is from me fled away,
But in another's breast does lie,
That neither is, nor will be, I,
“ Absurd l" and ask me how I live;
Which on weak Nature's law depend,
And know not how to comprehend Love and Religion, those great mysteries !