WHEN Fanny · blooming fair First caught my ravish'd fight, Struck with her shape and air, I felt a strange delight: Whilst eagerly I gaz'd, Admiring every part, And every feature prais'd, She stole into my heart. In her bewitching eyes Ten thousand loves appear ; There Cupid basking lies, His fhafts are hoarded there; Her blooming cheeks are dy'd With colour all their own, Excelling far the pride Of roses newly blown. Her well-turn'd limbs confess The lucky hand of Jove; a Supposed to be Lady Frances Shirley, What WHenever , Chloe, I begin Your heart like mine to move, You tell me of the crying fin Of unchaste lawless love. How can that passion be a fin, Which gave to Chloe births How can those joys but be divine, Which make a heaven on earth? To To wed, mankind the priest trepann'd, By some fly fallacy, Increase and multiply. You say that love's a crime ; content: Yet this allow you must, Than over ninety just. Sin then, dear girl, for heaven's fake, Repent and be forgiven ; A holy day in heaven. I N D E X TO THE FIR'S T V O L U M E. A Page 3 Poem to his Excellency the Lord Privy Seal, on the Pro- Spet of Peace 31 35 39 42 44 69 78 91 115 48 non 127 The Lady's Resolve. Written extempore on a Windows 118 119 ibid. 123 125 158 159 162 164 165 170 184 192 199 213 216 227 234 276 312 327 |