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Yet others yield ; and Love o'ercomes the best ;
But why should I not shine above the rest :
Fair Leda's Story seems at first to be
A fit Example ready form'd for me.
But she was cozen'd by a borrow'd Shape,
And under harmless Feathers felt a Rape.
If I should yield, what Reason could I use?
By what Miftake the loving Crime excuse ?
Her Fault was in her powerful Lover loft ;
But of what Jupiter have I to boast ?
Tho' you to Heroes and to Kings fucceed,
Our Famous Race does no Addition need ;
And great Alliances but useless prove
To one that comes herself from mighty Jove.
Go then, and boast in some less haughty Place
Your Phrygian Blood, and Priam's ancient Race;
Which I would shew I valu'd, if I durft ;
You are the fifth from Jove, but I the first.
The Crown of Troy is pow'rful, I confess;
But I have reason to think ours no less.
Your Letter, fill'd with Promises of all
That Men can good, and Women pleasant call,
Gives Expe&ation such an ample Field,
As wou'd move Goddesses themselves to yield.
But if I e'er offend great funo's Laws,
Your self shall be the dear, the only Cause :
Either my Honour I'll to Death maintain,
Or follow you, without mean Thoughts of Gain.
Not that so fair a Present I despise ;
We like the Gift, when we the Giver prize.
But 'tis your Love moves me, which made you take
Such Pains, and run fuch Hazards for
I have perceiv'd (tho' I dissembled too)
A thousand things that Love has made you do.
Your eager Eyes would almost dazzle mine,
In which (wild Man) your wanton Thoughts wou'd shine:
Sometimes you'd figh, sometimes disorder'd stand,
And with unusual Ardor press my Hand ;
Contrive just after me to take the Glass,
Nor wou'd you let the least Occasion pass:
When oft I fear'd, I did not mind alone,
And blushing fate for Things which you have done:
Then murmur'd to my felf, He'll for
Do any thing ; I hope 'twas no Mistake.
Oft have I read within this pleasing Grove,
Under my Name, those charming Words, I Love.
I, frowning, seem'd not to believe your Flame ;
But now, alas, am come to write the same.
If I were capable to do amiss,
I could not but be fenfible of this.
For oh! your Face has such peculiar Charms,
That who can hold from flying to your Arms !
But what I ne'er can have without Offence,
May some blest Maid possess with Innocence.
Pleasure may tempt, but Virtue more should move;
O learn of me to want the Thing you love.
What you defire is sought by all Mankind :
As you have Eyes, so others are not Blind.
Like you they see, like you my Charms adore
They wish not less, but
you dare venture more.
Oh! had you then upon our Coasts been brought,
My Virgin-Love when thousand Rivals fought,
You had I seen, you should have had my Voice ;
my Husband justly blame
For both our Hopes, alas ! you come too late ;
Another now is Master of my
More to my Wish I cou'd have liv'd with you,
And yet my present Lot can undergo.
Cease to sollicit a weak Woman's Will,
you love to so much Ill.
But let me live contented as I may,
And make not my unspotred Fame your Prey.
Some Right you claim, since naked to your Eyes
Three Goddesses disputed Beauty's Prize :
One offer'd Valour, t'other Crowns ; but she
Obtain'd her Cause, who smiling promis'd me.
But first I am not of Belief so light,
To think such Nymphs wou'd shew you such a Sight:
Yet granting this, the other part is feign'd;
A Bribe so mean your Sentence had not gain'd.
With partial Eyes I thou'd my self regard,
To think that Venus made me her Reward :
I humbly am content with human Praise ;
A Goddess's Applause wou'd Envy raise.
But be it as you say; for, 'tis confest,
The Men, who flatter highest, please us best.
That I suspect it, ought not to displease ;
For Miracles are not believ'd with Ease.
One Joy I have, that I had Venus' Voice;
A greater yet, that you confirm'd her Choice;
That proffer'd Laurels, promis'd Sovereignty,
uno and Pallas
contemn'd for me.
Am I your Empire then, and your Renown?
What Heart of Rock, but must by this be won?
And yet bear Witness, O
Pow'rs above, How rude I am in all the Arts of Love ! My Hand is yet untaught to write to Men : This is th' Effay of my unpractis'd Pen. Happy those Nymphs, whom Use has perfect made ! I think all Crime, and tremble at a Shade. E’en while I write, my fearful conscious Eyes Look oiten back, misdoubting a Surprise.
For now the Rumour spreads among the Croud,
At Court in Whispers, but in Town aloud :
Diffemble you, whate'er you hear 'em say:
To leave off loving were your better Way ;
Yet if you will dissemble it, you may.
Love fecretly : the Absence of my Lord
More Freedom gives, but does not all afford :
Long is his Journey, -long will be his Stay ;
Calld by Affairs of Consequence away.
To go, or not, when unresolv'd he ftood,
I bid him make what swift Return he cou'd :
Then killing me, he said, I recommend
All to thy Care, but most my Trojan Friend,
I smil'd at what he innocently said,
And only answer'd, You shall be obey'd.
Propitious Winds have born him far from hence,
But let not this secure
Absent he is, yet absent he commands :
You know the Proverb, Princes have long Hands.
My Fame's my Burden ; for the more I'm prais'd,
A jufter Ground of Jealousy is rais'd.
Were I less fair, I might have been more blest:
Great Beauty through great Danger is poffeft.
To leave me here his Venture was not hard,
Because he thought my Virtue was my Guard.
He fear’d my Face, but trusted to my Life,
The Beauty doubted, but believ'd the Wife.
You bid me use th' Occasion while I
Put in our Hands by the good easy Man.
I wou'd, and yet I doubt, 'twixt Love and Fear ;
One draws me from you, and one brings me near.
Our Flames are mutual, and my Husband's gone :
The Nights are long; I fear to lie alone.
One House contains us, and weak Walls divide,
And you're too pressing to be long deny'd.
Let me not live, but ev'ry Thing conspires
Tojoin our Loves, and yet my Fear retires.
You court with Words, when you shou'd Force employ:
A Rape is requisite to shame-fac'd Joy.
Indulgent to the Wrongs which we receive,
Our Sex can suffer what we dare not give.
What have I said ? for both of us 'twere beft,
Our kindling Fire if each of us suppreft.
The Faith of Strangers is too prone to change,
And, like themselves, their wand'ring Passions range.
Hypsipile, and the fond Minonian Maid,
Were both by trusting of their Guests betray'd.
How can I doubt that other Men deceive,
When you your self did fair O Enone leave?
But left I shou'd upbraid your Treachery,
You make a Merit of that Crime to me.
Yet grant you were to faithful Love inclin'd,
Your weary Trojans wait but for a Wind.
Should you prevail ; while I assign the Night,
Your Sails are hoifted, and
you take your Flight :
Some bawling Mariner our Love destroys,
And breaks asunder our unfinishid Joys.
But I with you may leave the Spartan Port,
To view the Trojan Wealth and Priam's Court :
Shown while I see, I shall expose my Fame,
And fill a foreign country with my Shame.
In Afia what Reception shall I find ?
And what Dishonour leave in Greece behind )
What will your Brothers, Priam, Hecuba,
And what will all your modeft Matrons fay?
E'en a you, when on this Action you reflect,
My future Conduct juftly may fufpect;