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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
h; From that proceeds all that I do,
Nay all my thoughts and speeches too ; And separation from it is
I come, and find a nymph much gentler here,
That gives consent to all I say.
Ah, gentle nymph ! who lik'st so well
Her heart being such, into it go,
In griefs whose cause thou dost not know;
How much compassion wouldst thou show!
Thy flame, whilst living, or a flower,
Alas ! I might as easily
Shapes by reflection shapes beget;
Thus things by opposition
Does from her stony breast rebound,
THE RICH RI VA L.
HEY say you 're angry, and rant mightily,
Alas! you 're very rich, 'tis true ;
You ’ave land and money, let that serve ;
How worthless thou art of her bed;
And, wretch ! I'll strike thee dumb and dead; With noble verse not understood by you ;
Whilst thy fole rhetorick shall be “ Jointure” and “ jewels,” and “ our friends agree." Pox o' your friends, that doat and domineer;
Lovers are better friends than they :
Let's those in other things obey ;
Vain names of blood ! in love let none
No other thought has had access !
'Did the now beg, I 'd love no less, And, were she an empress, I Mould love no more ; VOL. I.
Were she as just and true to me,
OPE! whose weak being ruin'd is,
Alike, if it succeed, and if it mifs ;
Vain shadow! which doft vanish quite,
Both at full noon and perfect 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 it us an estate, yet leav'ft us poor, . By clogging it with legacies before !
The joys which we entire should wed,
Come deflower'd virgins to our bed;
Such mighty custom 's paid to thee.
Hope ! Fortune's cheating lottery !
Thin, empty cloud, which th' eye deceives
With shapes that our own fancy gives !
But must drop presently in tears !
Brother of Fear, more gayly clad!
Leading them ftill in fenfibly' on
By the strange witchcraft of "
Her endless labyrinths, pursue ;
FOR HOP È.
The only cheap and universal cure!
Thou manna, which from heaven we eat,
taste a several meat!
Hope! thou first-fruits of happiness!
Who out of Fortune's reach doft stand,
And art a blessing still in hand!
We certain are to gain,
Brother of Faith ! 'twixt whom and thee The joys of heaven and earth divided he ! Though Faith be heir, and have the fixt estate, Thy portion yet in moveables is great.
Happiness itself 's all one
In thee, or in poffeffion!
Thine's the more hard and noble blifs :
Hope ! thou fad lovers' only friend!
Fruition more deceitful is
Than thou canst be, when thou doft miss Men leave thee by obtaining, and strait Alee
Some other way again to thee;