"Ah, fottish Soul !" faid I,

When back to' its cage again I faw it fly;
"Fool, to refume her broken chain,

"And row her galley here again!
"Fool, to that body to return

"Where it condemn'd and deftin'd is to burn!
"Once dead, how can it be,

"Death fhould a thing so pleasant seem to thee, That thou should'st come to live it o'er again in me?"?

WELL then; I now do plainly fee

This busy world and I shall ne'er agree;

The very honey of all earthly joy

Does of all meats the fooneft cloy;

And they, methinks, deserve my pity,

Who for it can endure the ftings,
The crowd, and buz, and murmurings,
Of this great hive, the city.

Ah, yet, ere I defcend to th' grave,
May I a small house and large garden have!
And a few friends, and many books, both true,
Both wife, and both delightful too!
And, fince love ne'er will from me flee,

A mistress moderately fair,

And good as guardian-angels are,

Only belov'd, and loving me!

Ok,

Oh, fountains! when in you shall I
Myfelf, eas'd of unpeaceful thoughts, espy?
Oh fields! oh woods! when, when shall I be made
The happy tenant of your shade ?
Here's the spring-head of pleasure's flood;
Where all the riches lie, that she

Has coin'd and stamp'd for good.

Pride and ambition here,
Only in far-fetch'd metaphors appear ;

Here nought but winds can hurtful murmurs fcatter,
And nought but echo flatter.

The Gods, when they descended, hither

From heaven did always chuse their way ;

And therefore we may boldly say,

That 'tis the way too thither.

How happy here should I,

And one dear She, live, and embracing die !,
She, who is all the world, and can exclude
In defarts folitude.

I should have then this only fear

Left men, when they my pleasures fee,
Should hither throng to live like me,.
And fo make a city here.

M Y

NOW, by my Love, the greatest oath that is,

None loves you half fo well as I:

I do not ask your love for this;

But for Heaven's fake believe me, or I die.
No fervant e'er but did deferve

His mafter fhould believe that he does ferve;
And I'll ask no more wages, though I ftarve..

'Tis no luxurious diet this, and fure
I fhall not by 't too lufty prove;
Yet fhall it willingly endure,

If 't can but keep together life and love.
Being your prifoner and your flave,

I do not feasts and banquets look to have; ;

A little bread and water 's all I crave.

On a figh of pity I a year can live; :

One tear will keep me twenty, at least ;
Fifty, a gentle look will give;

An hundred years on one kind word I'll feaft ::
A thousand more will added be,

If you an inclination have for me;
And all beyond is vaft eternity!

THE

T

THE THIEF.

HOU robb'ft my days of business and delights,
Of fleep thou robb'st my nights;

Ah, lovely thief! what wilt thou do?
What? rob me of heaven too?

Thou ev'n my prayers dost steal from me;
And I, with wild idolatry,

Begin to God, and end them all to thee.

Is it a fin to love, that it fhould thus,
Like an ill confcience torture us?
Whate'er I do, where'er I go,
(None guiltless e'er was haunted fo!)
Still, ftill, methinks, thy face I view,
And still thy fhape does me purfue,
As if, not you me, but I had murder'd you.

From books I ftrive fome remedy to take,

But thy name all the letters make
Whate'er 'tis writ, I find That there,
Like points and comma's every where:
Me bleft for this let no man hold;
For I, as Midas did of old,
Perish by turning every thing to gold.

What do I feek, alas! or why do I
Attempt in vain from thee to fly?
For making thee my deity,

I

gave thee then ubiquity.

My pains resemble hell in this;

The divine presence there too is,

But to torment men, not to give them blifs.

AL L

T

ALL-OVER LOV E.

IS well, 'tis well with them, fay I,

Whofe fhort-liv'd paffions with themselves can

die:

For none can be unhappy, who,

'Midft all his ills, a time does know (Though ne'er fo long) when he shall not be fo.

Whatever parts of me remain,

Thofe parts will still the love of thee retain;

For 'twas not only in my

heart,

But, like a God, by powerful art

'Twas all in all, and all in every part.

My' affection no more perish can
Than the first matter that compounds a man..
Hereafter, if one duft of me

Mix'd with another's fubftance be,

'Twill leaven that whole lump with love of thee.

Let Nature, if the pleafe, difperfe

My atoms over all the universe;

At the last they easily shall

Themselves know, and together call;:

Eor thy love, like a mark, is ftamp'd on all..