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Expect those statues, as you pass, should burn ;
AL ET TER FROM
Your heart to wandering thoughts no more than mine;
His fate, who this long time he keeps away,
alike with kind impatience burn,
LO V E's
SL A V E R Y.
RAVE fops my envy now beget,
Who did my pity move ;
Are free from cares of love.
By that defect secure
Which all the rest endure.
"Tis true, they fondly set their hearts
On things of no delight;
They pass alone the night.
Such servants she disdains; And so the fops are dully blest,
While I endure her chains.
Τ Η Ε
DR E A M.
E AD Y to throw me at the foot
Of thar fair nymph whom I adore, Impatient those delights to meet
Which I enjoy'd the night before ; By her wonted scornful brow,
Soon the fond mistake I find ; Ixion mourn'd his error so,
When Juno's form the cloud resign'd. Sleep, to make its charms more priz'd
Than waking joys, which most prevail, Had cunningly itself disguis'd
In a shape that could not fail, There my Celia's snowy arms,
Breasts, and other parts more dear, Exposing new and unknown charms,
To my transported soul appear.
Then you so much kindness show,
My despair deluded Aies ; And indulgent dreams bestow
What your cruelty denies. Blush not that your image Love
Naked to my fancy brought ; 'Tis hard, methinks, to disapprove
The joys I feel without your fault. Wonder not a fancy'd bliss
Can such griefs as mine remove ; That honour as fantastic is,
Which makes you flight such constant love. The virtue which you value so,
Is but a fancy frail and vain; Nothing is folid here below, Except my love and
To One who accused him of being too sensual in
HINK not, my fair, 'tis fin or shame,
To bless the man who so adores;
To all those favours he implores.
Yet wish not vainly for a love
From all the force of nature clear:
And ’ris a fault to claim it here.
In passion's fond extremes,
And doat upon your dreams :
From such a pleasing state,
And find your fault too late.
Our cares is all but wiles,
And soft dissembling smiles.
They cruel tyrants prove;
With as affected love.
As if some injury was meant.
To those they kindly us’d, Those lovers are the most content
That have been still resus'd.