Without fome badge of thy refemblance,
So that thy parts become to me
A kind of art of memory;
If my uuderstanding do
Seek any knowledge but of you,
If the do near thy body prize
Her bodies of Philofophies;
If the to the will do fhew
Ought defirable but you,
Or if that would not rebel,
Should the another doctrine tell;
If my will do not refign
All her liberty to thine;
If fhe would not follow thee,
Though Fate and thou shouldst disagree;
And if (for I a curfe will give
Such as fhall force thee to believe)
My foul be not entirely thïne,
May thy dear body ne'er be mine.
Through which some streaks, too, of divin'ty ran,
Partly of Monk, and partly Puritan ;
With tedious repetitions, too, you 'ave ta'en
Often the name of Vanity in vain :
Things which, I take it, Friend! you'd ne'er recite,
Should the I love but say to you, Come at night.
The wifeft king refus'd all pleasures quite,
Till wifdom from above did him enlight;
But when that gift his ign'rance did remove,
Pleasures he chofe, and plac'd them all in love.
And if by' event the counsels may be seen,
This wisdom 't was that brought the Southern
She came not, like a good old wife, to know The wholesome nature of all plants that grow; Nor did fo far from her own country roam,
To cure fcall'd heads and broken fhins at home: She came for that which more befits all wives, The art of giving, not of saving, lives.
No; thou'rt a fool, I'll fwear, if e'er thou grant;
Much of my veneration thou must want,
When ance thy kindness puts my ign'rance out,
For a learn'd age is always leaft devout.
Keep ftill thy diftance; for at once, to me,
Goddess and woman, too, thou canst not be.
Thou'rt queen of all that fees thee, and, as fuch,
Muft neither tyrannize nor yield too much.
Such freedoms give as may admit command,
But keep the forts and magazines in thine hand.
Thou'rt yet a whole world to me, and doft fill
My large ambition; but 't is dang’rous ftill,
Left I like the Pellaan prince should be,
And weep for other worlds, having conquer'd
thee.
When love has taken all thou haft away,
His ftrength, by too much riches, will decay.
Thou in my fancy doft much higher stand
Than women can be plac'd by Nature's hand
And I must needs, I'm fure, a lofer be,
That shouldst thou nectar give, 't would spoil the taste.
Beauty at first moves wonder and delight;
'Tis Nature's juggling trick to cheat the fight:
W'admire it whilst unknown, but after, more
Admire ourselves for liking it before.
Love, like a greedy hawk, if we give way,
Does overgorge himself with his own prey;
Of very hopes a surfeit he'll sustain,
Unless by fears he caft them up again :
His fpirit and fweetness dangers keep alone;
If once he lose his fting, he grows a drone.
SOME others may with fafety tell
The mod'rate flames which in them dwell,
And either find fome med'cine there,
Or cure themselves ev'n by despair :
My love's fo great, that it might prove
Dang'rous to tell her that I love:
So tender is my wound, it must not bear
Any falute, tho' of the kindeft air.
I would not have her know the pain,
The torments, for her I fuftain,
Left too much goodness make her throw
Her love upon a fate too low.
Forbid it, Heav'n! my life should be
Weigh'd with her least conveniency:
No, let me perish rather with my grief,
Than to her difadvantage find relief.
Yet when I die, my laft breath fhall
Grow bold, and plainly tell her all;
Like cov'tous men who ne'er defcry
Their dear hid treafures till they die.
Ah fairest Maid! how will it cheer
My ghoft, to get from thee a tear!
But take heed; for if me thou pitieft then,
Twenty to one but I fhall live again.
I wonder what thofe lovers mean who fay
They have giv'n their hearts away :
Some good kind lover tell me how,
For mine is but a torment to me now.
If fo it be one place both hearts contain, For what do they complain?
What courtefy can Love do more,
Than to join hearts that parted were before?
To change thee, as thou'rt there, for very thee. Thy fweetnefs is fo much within me plac'd,
Wo to her ftubborn heart, if once mine come Into the felf-fame room;
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