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Too faithful Memory! I give thee leave
Thy wretched Master kindly to deceive;'
Oh, make me pot Poffessor of her Charms,
Let me not find her languish in my Arms;
Past Joys are now my Fancy's mournful Themes;
Make all my happy Nights appear but Dreams :
Let not such Bliss before my Eyes be brought;
O hide those Scenes from my tormenting Thought;
And in their place disdainful Beauty show;
If thou would'st not be cruel, make her so:
And, something to abate my deep Despair,
O let her seem less gentle, or less fair.
But Iin vain flatter my wounded Mind,
Never was Nymph so lovely, or so kind:
No cold Repulses my Desires suppress’d,
I seldom figh'd but on ALMERIA's Breast :
Of all the Passions which Mankind destroy,
I only felt Excess of Love and Joy:
Unnumber'd Pleasures charm'd my Sense, and they
Were, as my Love, without the least Allay.

As

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As pure, alas! but not so sure to last,
For, like a pleasing Dream, they all are past.
From Heav'n herBeauties like fierceLight'nings came,
Which break throughDarkness with a glorious Flame;
A while they shine, a while our Minds amaze,
Our wond'ring Eyes are dazled with the Blaze;
But Thunder follows, whose resistless Rage
None can withstand, and nothing can assuage ;
And all that Light which those bright Flashes gave,
Serves only to conduct us to our Grave.

When I had just begun Love's Joys to taste,
(Those full Rewards for Fears and Dangers past)
A Fever seiz'd her, and to nothing brought
The richest Work that ever Nature wrought.
All things below, alas, uncertain stand;
The firmest Rocks are fix'd upon the Sand:
Under this Law both Kings and Kingdoms bend,
And no Beginning is without an End.
A Sacrifice to Time, Fate dooms us all,
And at the Tyrant's Feet we daily fall :

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Time, whose bold Hand will bring alike to Dust
Mankind, and Temples too in which they trust.

Her wasted Spirits now begin to faint,
Yet Patience ties her Tongue from all Complaint,
And in her Heart as in a Fort remains ;'
But yields at last to her resistless Pains.
Thus while the Fever, am'rous of his Prey,
Through all her Veins makes his delightful Way,
Her Fate's like SEMELE's, the Flames destroy
That Beauty they too eagerly enjoy.
Her charming Face is in its Spring decay’d,
Pale grow the Roses, and the Lillies fade;
Her Skin has lost that Lustre which furpass'd
The Sun's, and well deservd as long to last :
Her Eyes, which us’d to pierce the hardest Hearts,
Are now disarm'd of all their Flames and Darts;
Those Stars now heavily and slowly move;
And Sickness triumphs in the Throne of Love.
The Fever ev'ry Moment more prevails,
Its Rage her Body feels, and Tongue bewails :

She,

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She, whose Disdain so many Lovers prove,
Sighs now for Torment, as they figh for Love,
And with loud Cries, which rend the neighb’ring Air,
Wounds my sad Heart, and wakens my Despair.
Both Men and Gods I charge now with my Loss,
And, wild with Grief, my Thoughts each other cross;
My Heart and Tongue labour in both Extremes,
This sends up humble Prayers, while that blasphemes:
I ask their Help, whose Malice I defy,
And mingle Sacrilege with Piety.
But that which must yet more perplex my Mind,
To love her truly, I must seem unkind :
So unconcern'd a Face

my

Sorrow wears,
I must restrain unruly Floods of Tears.
My Eyes and Tongue put on dissembling Forms,
I shew a Calmness in the midst of Storms;
I seem to hope when all my Hopes are gone,
And almost dead with Grief, discover none.
But who can long deceive a loving Eye,
Or with dry Eyes behold his Mistress die?

When

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When Passion had with all its Terrors brought
Th’approaching Danger nearer to my Thought,
Off on a sudden fell the forc'd Disguise,
And shew'd a sighing Heart in weeping Eyes :
My Apprehensions now no more confin’d,
Expos'd my Sorrows and betray'd my Mind.
The Fair afflicted soon perceives my Tears,
Explains my Sighs, and thence concludes my Fcars :
With sad Presages of her hopeless Case,
She reads her Fate in my dejected Face ;
Then feels my Torment, and neglects her own,
While I am sensible of hers alone;
Each does the other's Burthen kindly bear,
I fear her Death, and she bewails my Fear :
Tho'thus we suffer under Fortune's Darts,
'Tis only those of Love which reach our Hearts.

Mean while the Fever mocks at all our Fears,

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Grows by our Sighs, and rages at our Tears :
Those vain Effects of our as vain Desire,

Like Wind and Oil increase the fatal Fire.

ALMERIA

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