I ask their help, whofe malice I defy,

And mingle facrilege with piety.

But, that which muft yet more perplex my mind,
To love her truly, I must seem unkind :
So unconcern'd a face my forrow wears,
I must restrain unruly floods of tears.

My eyes and tongue put on diffembling forms,
I fhew a calmnefs in the midst of storms;
I feem to hope when all my hopes are gone,
And, almost dead with grief, discover none.
But who can long deceive a loving eye,
Or with dry eyes behold his mistress die?
When paffion had with all its terrors brought
Th' approaching danger nearer to my thought,
Off on a fudden fell the forc'd difguise,
And fhew'd a fighing heart in weeping eyes:
My apprehenfions, now no more confin'd,
Expos'd my forrows, and betray'd my mind.
The fair afflicted foon perceives my tears,
Explains my fighs, and thence concludes my
With fad prefages of her hopeless case,
She reads her fate in my dejected face ;
Then feels my torment, and neglects her own,
While I am fenfible of hers alone;

fears

Each does the other's burthen kindly bear,
I fear her death, and fhe bewails my fear :
Though thus we fuffer under Fortune's darts,
'Tis only thofe of love which reach our hearts.

Meanwhile the fever mocks at all our fears,
Grows by our fighs, and rages at our tears :

:

Thofe

Those vain effects of our as vain defire,

Like wind and oil, increase the fatal fire.
Almeria then, feeling the deftinies

About to shut her lips, and close her eyes ;
Weeping, in mine, fix'd her fair trembling hand,
And with these words I fcarce could understand,
Her paffion in a dying voice exprefs'd

--

Half, and her fighs, alas! made out the rest.
'Tis paft; this
pang Nature gives o'er the strife
Thou must thy mistress lofe, and I my life.
I die; but, dying thine, the fates may prove
Their conqueft over me, but not my love :
Thy memory, my glory, and my pain,.
In fpite of death itself shall still remain.
Deareft Orontes, my hard fate denies,

That hope is the last thing which in us dies:

From my griev'd breaft all thofe foft thoughts are flad,
And love furvives it though my hope is dead;

I yield my life, but keep my paffion yet,
And can all thoughts, but of Orontes, quit.

My flame increases as my strength decays;
Death, which puts out the light, the heat will raife:
That ftill remains, though I from hence remove;
I lose my lover, but I keep my love.

The fighs which fent forth that last tender word,
Up tow'rds the heavens like a bright meteor foar'd ;
And the kind nymph, not yet bereft of charms,
Fell cold and breathlefs in her lover's arms.

Goddefs, who now my fate haft understood,
Spare but my tears, and freely take my blood :

Here let me end the ftory of my cares ;
My difmal grief enough the rest declares.
Judge thou by all this mifery display'd,
Whether I ought not to implore thy aid :
Thus, to furvive, reproaches on me draws;
Never fad wishes had so just a cause.

Come then, my only hope; in every place
Thou vifiteft, men tremble at thy face,
And fear thy name: once let thy fatal hand
Fall on a fwain that does the blow demand.
Vouchfafe thy dart; I need not one of those,
With which thou doft unwilling kings depose :
A welcome death the flightest wound can bring,
And free a foul already on her wing.
Without thy aid, most miserable I
Muft ever wish, yet not obtain to die.

ODE ON

LOVE.

I.

L

ET others fongs or fatires write,
Provok'd by Vanity or Spite;
My Mufe a nobler caufe fhall move,
To found aloud the praife of Love:
That gentle, yet refiftless heat,

Which raifes men to all things good and great:
While other paffions of the mind
To low brutality debafe mankind,
By love we are above ourselves refin'd.

}

Oh

Oh love, thou trance divine! in which the foul, Unclogg'd with wordly cares, may range without control; And foaring to her heaven, from thence infpir'd can teach High mysteries, above poor Reason's feeble reach.

To weak old age, Prudence fome aid may prove
And curb thofe appetites that faintly move;
But wild, impetuous youth is tam'd by nothing lefs
than love.

Of men too rough for peace, too rude for arts,
Love's power can penetrate the hardest hearts;
And through the closest pores a paffage find,
Like that of light, to fhine all o'er the mind,
The want of love does both extremes produce;
Maids are too nice, and men as much too loofe;
While equal good an amorous couple find,
She makes him conftant, and he makes her kind.
New charms in vain a lover's faith would prove;
Hermits or bed-rid men they 'll fooner move :
The fair inveigler will but fadly find,

There's no fuch eunuch as a man in love.
But when by his chafte nymph embrac'd,
(For love makes all embraces chafte)
Then the tranfported creature can
Do wonders, and is more than man.

Both heaven and earth would our defires confine
But yet
in vain both heaven and earth combine,
Unless where love bleffes the great defign.
Hymen makes faft the hand, but love the heart;
He the fool's god, thou nature's Hymen art;

C 3

}

Whofe

Whofe laws once broke, we are not held by force,
But the falfe breach itself is a divorce.

III.

For love the mifer will his gold despise,
The falfe grow faithful, and the foolish wife;
Cautious the young, and complaifant the old,
The cruel gentle, and the coward bold.
Thou glorious fun within our fouls,
Whofe influence fo much controls;
Ev'n dull and heavy lumps of love,
Quicken'd by thee, more lively move;
And if their heads but any fubstance hold,
Love ripens all that drofs into the purest gold.
In heaven's great work thy part is fuch,
That master-like thou giv'ft the last great touch.
To heaven's own master-piece of man;
And finisheft what Nature but began:
Thy happy ftroke can into softness bring
Reason, that rough and wrangling thing.
From childhood upwards we decay,
And grow but greater children every day :
So, reafon, how can we be faid to rife?
So many cares attend the being wife,
'Tis rather falling down a precipice.

From Senfe to Reason unimprov'd we move ;

We only then advance, when Reason turns to Love.

IV.

Thou reigneft o'er our earthly gods;

Uncrown'd by thee, their other crowns are loads;

One