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OUR fighs are heard, juft Heaven declares

The fenfe it has of lovers' cares :

She that has fo far the rest outshin'd,
Sylvia the fair, while she was kind,
As if her frowns impair'd her brow,
Seems only not unhandsome now.

So when the sky makes us endure
A ftorm, itself becomes obfcure.

Hence 'tis that I conceal my flame,
Hiding from Flavia's self her name;
Left fhe, provoking heaven, should prove
How it rewards neglected love.

Better a thousand fuch as I,

Their grief untold, fhould pine and die;
Than her bright morning, overcast
With fullen clouds, fhould be defac'd.


LATELY on yonder fwelling bush,

Big with many a coming rofe,

This early bud began to blush,

And did but half itself difclofe :
I pluck'd it, though no better grown;
And now you fee how full 'tis blown.

Still as I did the leaves infpire,

With fuch a purple light they fhone, As if they had been made of fire,

And spreading so, would flame anon : All that was meant by air or fun,

To the young flower, my breath has done.

If our loose breath so much can do,
What may the fame in forms of love,
Of pureft love, and music too,

When Flavia it aspires to move?
When that, which lifeless buds perfuades
To wax more foft, her youth invades ?



EHOLD the brand of beauty toft!

See how the motion does dilate the flame!

Delighted Love his fpoils does boast,

And triumph in this game.

Fire, to no place confin'd,

Is both our wonder, and our fear;
Moving the mind,

As lightning hurled through the air.

High heaven the glory does increase
Of all her fhining lamps, this artful way:

The fun in figures, such as these,

Joys with the moon to play :

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To the sweet strains they advance,

Which do refult from their own spheres;
As this nymph's dance

Moves with the numbers which the hears.

On the Discovery of a Lady's PAINTING.


YGMALEON's fate revers'd is mine :
His marble love took flesh and blood;
All that I worship'd as divine,

That beauty! now 'tis understood,
Appears to have no more of life,
Than that whereof he fram'd his wife.

As women yet, who apprehend

Some fudden cause of causeless fear,
Although that seeming cause take end,
And they behold no danger near,
A fhaking through their limbs they find,
Like leaves faluted by the wind :

So, though the beauty do appear

No beauty, which amaz'd me so;
Yet from my breaft I cannot tear
The paffion, which from thence did
Nor yet out of my fancy rase
The print of that fuppofed face.


A real

A real beauty, though too near,
The fond Narciffus did admire:
I doat on that which is no where;
The sign of beauty feeds my fire.
No mortal flame was e'er fo cruel
As this, which thus furvives the fuel!




From whom he received a Silver Pen,

ADAM! intending to have try'd The filver favour which you gave, In ink the fhining point I dy'd,

And drench'd it in the fable wave:
When, griev'd to be fo foully stain’d,
On you it thus to me complain'd.

Suppose you had deferv'd to take
From her fair hand fo fair a boon;

Yet how deferved I to make

So ill a change; who ever won Immortal praise for what I wrote, Inftructed by her noble thought?

I, that expreffed her commands

To mighty Lords and Princely dames, Always moft welcome to their hands;

Proud that I would record their names; Muft now be taught an humble style, Some meaner beauty to beguile!

So I, the wronged pen to please,
Make it my humble thanks express
Unto your Ladyship, in these :

And now 'tis forced to confess,
That your great felf did ne'er indite,
Nor that, to one more noble, write.



HLORIS! fince firft our calm of peace
Was frighted hence, this good we find,
Your favours with your fears increase,
And growing mischiefs make you kind.

So the fair tree, which still preserves

Her fruit and ftate, while no wind blows; In ftorms from that uprightness swerves, And the glad earth about her strows With treasure, from her yielding boughs.


WHILE I liften to thy voice,

Chloris! I feel my life decay :

That powerful noise

Calls my fleeting foul away.
Oh! fupprefs that magic found,
Which deftroys without a wound!


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