ALMERIA then, feeling the Deftinies About to fhut her Lips and close her Eyes; Half, and her Sighs alas! made out the reft. 'Tis paft; this Pang-Nature gives o'er the Strife; That Hope is the last thing which in us dies: My Flame increases as my Strength decays ; That That still remains, tho' I from hence remove; I lose my Lover, but I keep my Love. The Sigh which sent forth that laft tender Word, Up tow'rds the Heav'ns like a bright Metcor foar'd; And the kind Nymph, not yet bereft of Charms, Fell cold and breathlefs in her Lover's Arms. Goddess, who now my Fate haft understood, Come then, my only Hope; in ev'ry place And fear thy Name: Once let thy fatal Hand A welcome Death the flightest Wound can bring, And free a Soul already on her Wing, Without thy Aid, moft miferable I Muft ever wish, yet not obtain to die. VOL. I. C ODE That gentle, yet refiftless Heat, Which raises Man to all things good and great: While other Paffions of the Mind To low Brutality debafe Mankind, By Love we are above our felves refin'd. Oh Love, thou Trance Divine! in which the Soul, Unclogg'd with worldly Cares, may range without Controul; And foaring to her Heav'n, from thence infpir'd can teach High Myfterics, above poor Reafon's feeble Reach, II. To weak old Age Prudence fomeAid 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, |