And through the clofeft Pores a Paffage find,
Like that of Light, to fhine all o'er the Mind.
The Want of Love docs both Extremes produce;
Maids are too nice, and Men as much too loose;
While equal Good an am'rous 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 chaste)
Then the transported Creature can

Do Wonders, and is more than Man.

Both Heav'n and Earth would our Defires confine;

But yet in vain both Heav'n 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 ;

2

Whose

Whose 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 defpife,
The False grow Faithful, and the Foolish Wife;
Cautious the Young, and complaifant the Old,
The Cruel Gentle, and the Coward Bold.
Thou glorious Sun within our Souls,
Whofe Influence fo much controuls;
Even dull and heavy Lumps of Love,
Quicken'd by thee, more lively move,
And if their Heads but any Substance hold,
Love ripens all that Dross into the pureft Gold.
In Heav'ns great Work thy Part is fuch,

That Master-like thou giv'ft the last great Touch,
To Heav'n's own Master-picce of Man;
And finifheft what Nature but began:

Thy happy Stroke can into Softness bring
Reafon, that rough and wrangling thing.

From Childhood upwards we decay,

And

grow but greater Children ev'ry 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 Reafon unimprov'd we move;

We only then advance, when Reafon turns to Love.

IV.

Thou reigneft o'er our earthly Gods;

Uncrown'd by thee their other Crowns are Loads ; One Beauty's Smile their meaneft Courtier brings Rather to pity than to envy Kings;

His Fellow Slaves he takes them now to be,

Favour'd by Love perhaps much less than he.
For Love, the tim'rous bafhful Maid

Of nothing but denying is afraid;

For Love the overcomes her Shame,

Forfakes her Fortune, and forgets her Fame;
Yet if but with a conftant Lover bleft,

Thanks Heav'n for that, and never minds the reft.

V. Love

V.

Love is the Salt of Life; a higher Tafte

It gives to Pleasure, and then makes it last.
Those flighted Favours which cold Nymplis difpenfe

Mere common Counters of the Senfe,

Defective both in Mettle and in Measure,

A Lover's Fancy coins into a Treasure.

How vaft the Subject! What a boundless Store

Of bright Ideas, fhining all before

The Mufes Sight, forbids me to give o'er!

But the kind God incites us various Ways,

And now I find him all

my

Ardour raife,

His Precepts to perform, as well as praise.

ELEGY

TO THE

Duchefs of R

HOU lovely Slave to a rude Husband's Will,

TH

By Nature us'd fo well, by him fo ill!

For all that Grief we fee your Mind endure,
Your Glass prefents you with a pleasing Cure;
Thofe Maids you envy for their happier State,
To have your Form, would gladly have your Fate;
And of like Slavery cach Wife complains,

Without fuch Beauty's Help to bear her Chains.
Husbands like Him we every where may fee,

But where can we behold a Wife like Thee?
While to a Tyrant you by Fate are ty'd,

By Love you tyrannize o'er all befide;

Thofe