Amidst so many dang❜rous Foes

How weak the wisest prove!

Reason itself would scarce oppose,
And feems agreed with Love.

If from the glorious Height he falls,

He greatly daring dies;

Or mounting where bright Beauty calls,
An Empire is the Prize.

VOL. 1.

F

The

The SURPRIZE.

Afely perhaps dull Crowds admire;

Safely

But I, alas, am all on fire.

Like him who thought in Childhood past
That dire Difcafe which kill'd at last,

I durft have fworn I lov'd before,
And fancy'd all the danger o'er;
Had felt the Pangs of jealous Pain,
And born the Blafts of cold Difdain;

Then reap'd at length the mighty Gains,
That full Reward of all our Pains!

But what was all fuch Grief or Joy,
That did my heedlefs Years employ?
Mere Dreams of feign'd fantastick Pow'rs,
But the Difcafe of idle Hours;

Amusement,

Amusement, Humour, Affectation, Compar'd with this fublimer Passion, Whose Raptures, bright as those above, Outshine the Flames of Zeal, or Love.

Yet think not, Fairest, what I fing,

Can from a Love Platonick spring;
That formal Softness (false and vain)
Not of the Heart, but of the Brain.
Thou art indeed above all Nature;
But I, a wretched human Creature,
Wanting thy gentle, gen'rous Aid,
Of Husband, Rivals, Friends afraid!
Amidst all this Seraphic Fire,

Am almost dying with Defire,

With eager Wishes, ardent Thoughts,

Prone to commit Love's wildeft Faults!

And (as we are on Sundays told

The lufty Patriarch did of old)

Would force a Bleffing from those Charms,

And grafp an Angel in my Arms.

A Dialogue fung on the Stage between an elderly Shepherd, and a very young Nymph.

Shep. BRight and blooming as the Spring,

Univerfal Love inspiring!

All our Swains thy Praises fing,
Ever gazing, and admiring.

Nym. Praises in fo high a Strain,

And by fuch a Shepherd fung,

Are enough to make me vain,
Yet fo harmless and fo young.

Shep.

Shep. Ifhould have despair'd among

Rivals that appear fo gayly:

But your Eyes have made me young,
By their smiling on me dayly.

Nym. Idle Boys admire us blindly,

Are inconftant, wild, and bold;
And your using me fo kindly,

Is a Proof you are not old.

Shep. With thy pleasing Voice and Fashion,
With thy Humour and thy Youth,

Chear my Soul, and crown my Paffion,
Oh! reward my Love and Truth.

Nym. With thy careful Arts to cover

That which Fools will count a Fault,

Trueft Friend as well as Lover,

Oh! deserve so kind a Thought.