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So fweet 's revenge to me, that I
Upon my foe would gladly die.

Deep into her bofom would I strike the dart,
Deeper than woman e'er was struck by thee;
Thou giv'ft them fmall wounds, and fo far from
th' heart,

They flutter still about, inconftantly:

Curfe on thy goodness, whom we find
Civil to none but woman-kind!

Vain God! who women doft thyself adore!
Their wounded hearts do ftill retain the powers
To travel and to wander, as before :

Thy broken arrows 'twixt that sex and ours
So 'unjustly are distributed,

They take the feathers, we the head.



E followed thee a year, at least,


And never stopp'd myself to reft ;

But yet can thee o'ertake no more

Than this day can the day that went before.

In this our fortunes equal prove
To ftars, which govern them above;
Our stars, that move for ever round,
With the fame distance still betwixt them found.

In vain, alas! in vain I strive

The wheel of Fate fafter to drive;
Since, if around it fwiftlier fly,
She in it mends her pace as much as I.


Hearts by Love ftrangely fhuffled are,
That there can never meet a pair!
Tamelier than worms are lovers flain;
The wounded heart ne'er turns, to wound again.

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Thought, I'll fwear, I could have lov'd no more Than I had done before;

But you as easily might account Till to the top of numbers you amount, As caft up my love's fcore.

Ten thousand millions was the fum;
Millions of endless millions are to come.

I'm fure her beauties cannot greater grow;
Why should my love do fo?

A real caufe at firft did move ;
But mine own fancy now drives-on my love,
With fhadows from itself that flow.

My love, as we in numbers fee,

By cyphers is increas'd eternally.

So the new-made and untry'd spheres above

Took their first turn from th' hand of Jove;
But are, fince that beginning, found

By their own forms to move for ever round.
All violent motions fhort do prove; .

But, by the length, 'tis plain to see
That Love's a motion natural to me.

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WITH much of pain, and all the art I knew,

Have I endeavour'd hitherto

To hide my love, and yet all will not do.
The world perceives it, and, it may be, she;
Though so discreet and good she be,

By hiding it, to teach that skill to me.

Men without love have oft fo cunning grown,

That something like it they have shown;
But none who had it ever feem'd t' have none..
Love 's of a strangely open, fimple kind,
Can no arts or disguises find,

But thinks none fees it 'cause itself is blind.

The very eye betrays our inward fmart ;
Love of himself left there a part,
When thorough it he past into the heart.

Or if by chance the face betray not it,
But keep the fecret wifely, yet,
Like drunkenness, into the tongue 'twill get.



HESE full two hours now have I gazing been,
What comfort by it can I gain ?

To look on heaven with mighty gulfs between

Was the great mifer's greatest pain;




So near was he to heaven's delight,

As with the bleft converse he might,
Yet could not get one drop of water by 't. ́

Ah wretch! I feem to touch her now; but oh,
What boundless spaces do us part!

Fortune, and friends, and all earth's empty show,
My lowness, and her high desert :
But these might conquerable prove ;
Nothing does me so far remove,

As her hard foul's averfion from my love.

So travellers, that lose their way by night,
If from afar they chance t' efpy

Th' uncertain glimmerings of a taper's light,
Take flattering hopes, and think it nigh;
Till, wearied with the fruitless pain,

They fit them down, and weep in vain,
And there in darkness and despair remain.



Wonder what the grave and wife

Think of all us that love;

Whether our pretty fooleries

Their mirth or anger move:

They understand not breath that words does want;

Our fighs to them are infignificant.


One of them faw me, th' other day,

Touch the dear hand which I admire;

My foul was melting strait away,

And dropt before the fire:

This filly wife-man, who pretends to know, -Ask'd why I look'd so pale, and trembled so ?

Another, from my mistress door

Saw me with eyes all watery come; Nor could the hidden caufe explore,

But thought fome fmoke was in the room: Such ignorance from unwounded learning came; He knew tears made by smoke, but not by flame. If learn'd in other things you be,

And have in love no fkill,

For God's fake keep your arts from me,
For I'll be ignorant still :

Study or action others may embrace ;

My love 's my business, and my books her face.

These are but trifles, I confefs,

Which me, weak mortal! move;

Nor is your busy seriousness

Lefs trifling than my love :

The wifest king, who from his facred breast
Pronounc'd all vanity, chose it for the best.

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