Where's now your Faith? And where's the Love you
Where are the Gods by whom you falsly swore; [bore?
Where's Hymen too, who join'd our tender Years?
He bid me love, and banish'd all my Fears.
You swore by th' fwelling Billows of the Main,
Which you oft try'd, and yet would trust again,
Rather than stay with me, tho' much more kind,
And conftant too, than are the Seas or Wind.
You fwore by the Great Ruler of the Flood,
The Heav'nly Author of your Royal Blood;
(If e'er a God had any thing to do
In one fo falfe and fo unkind as you)
You fwore by Venus, and the fatal Steel

Of those proud Darts, which too much I feel;
And by great Juno, whofe refiftless Art

Gave thee my Hand, when I had given my Heart.
Thou fwor'ft fo much, that if each God should be
Just to revenge his injur'd felf and me,

Such num'rous Mischiefs on thy Head would fall,
Thou'dft not have room enough to bear them all.
Diftracted I, as if I'd fear your Stay,

Repair'd your Ships to hurry you away.

What Hafte you wanted, my curs'd Care supply'd,
Oars to your Sails, and Current to your Tide.
Thus was I falfely by my felf betray'd,

And perish'd by the Wounds my Hands have made."
I foolishly believ'd thofe Oaths you swore,

The Race you boafted, and the Gods you bore.

Who could have thought fuch gentle Words e'er hung Upon a treacherous, deluding Tongue?

I faw your Tears, and I believ'd them all;
Can they lye too, and are they taught to fall?
What needed all that num'rous Perjury?
One was enough to her that lov'd like me.
I'm not asham'd I did your Ships receive,
And your own Wants did carefully relieve;
Those Debts I ow'd you on a nobler Score;
But then, 'tis true, I should have done no more.
All I repent, is that I bafely ftrove

T'increase your Welcome by a nuptial Love.
That Night that usher'd in th' unhappy Day,
Which did me to your guilty Love betray;
I wish that fatal Night had been my last;
Then I had dy'd, but then I had been chaste.
I hop'd you were, 'cause I deferv'd you, True!
Is it a Crime to wifh what is our due?
'Tis fure no mighty Glory to deceive
A tender Maid, fo willing to believe.

My Weakness does but heighten your Offence,
You kindly should have spar'd my Innocence.
You've gain'd a Maid that lov'd you, and may't be
Your greatest Prize, and only Victory.

May your proud Statue, rais'd by this Succefs,
Shame your great Father, 'cause his Crimes were less §
And when late Story fhall of Tyrants tell,

And who by Syron, and Procruftes fell;

The Centaurs Flight, the Thebans Overthrow,
Who 'twas durft force the dismal Shades below;
Then for your Honour fhall at last be faid,
Here's He, who by a wretched Wile betray'd

A Loving, Innocent, Believing Maid.

Of

Of all thofe A&ts, we in your Father knew,
His Treachery alone remains in you.

What only can excufe the Ills

you do,

You both inherit and admire it too.

He Ariadne did betray, but she

Enjoys a Hufband mightier far than He.
But the fcorn'd Thracians my Embraces fhun,
'Cause I from them into thy Arms did run.
Let her, they cry, to learned Greece be gone,
We'll find a Monarch to supply the Throne.
Thus all we do depends on an ill Fate,
Which does for ever on th' Unhappy wait;
But may that Fate all his best Thoughts attend,
Who judges others Actions by the End.

For fhou'dft thou ever bless these Seas again,
They'd praise that Love of which they now complain.
Then would they fay, What could be better do,
Both for her felf, and for her Kingdom too?
But I have err'd, and thou'rt for ever fled,
Forget'ft my Empire, and forget'ft my Bed.
Methinks I fee thee ftill, Demophoon,
Thy Sails all hoifted, ready to be gone.
When boldly thou did'ft my foft Limbs embrace,
And with long Kiffes dwelt'ft upon my Face;
Drown'd in my Tears, and in your own you lay,
And curs'd the Winds that haften'd you away.
Then parting cry'd, (methinks I hear thee still)
Phillis I'll come, you may be fure I will.

Can I expect that thou'lt e'er fee this Shore,
Who left'ft it that thou ne'er might' fee me more?

And

And yet I beg you'd come too, that you may

Be only Guilty in too long a Stay.

What do I ask? Thou, by new charms poffefs'd,

Forget'it my Kindness on another Breaft;

And, better to compleat the Treachery,

Swear'st all those Oaths, which thou haft broke to me.

And haft (falfe Man) perhaps forgat my Name, And ask'ft too, who I am, and whence I came But that thou better may'st remember me, Know, thou ungrateful Man, that I am she, Who, when thou'dst wander'd all the Ocean o'er, Harbour'd thy Ships, and welcom'd thee to Shore; Thy Coffers ftill replenish'd from my own, And to that height a Prodigal was grown, I gave thee all thou afk'dft, and gave fo faft, I gave my felf into thy Pow'r at laft; 1 gave my Scepter and my Crown to Thee, A Weight too heavy to be borne by me. Where Hamus does his fhady Head display, And gentle Heber cuts his Sacred Way, So great's the Empire, and fo wide the Land, Scarce to be govern'd by a Woman's Hand, She whom Fate would not suffer to be Chaft, Whofe Nuptials with a Fun'ral Pomp was grac'd ;Shrill Cries difturb'd us 'midst our swiftest Joys, And our drawn Curtains trembled with the Noife, Then close to thee I clung, all drown'd in Tears, And fought my Shelter, where I'd found my Fears. And now while others drown their Care in Sleep, I run to th' barren Shore and Rocks, to weep, And view with longing Eyes the spacious Deep..

C

All

All Day and Night I the Wind's Course survey,
Impatient 'till I find it blows this Way:
And when a-far, a coming Sail I view,

I thank my Stars, and I conclude 'tis you;
Then with ftrange hafte I run my Love to meet;
Nor can the flowing Waters ftop my Feet.

When near, I grow more fearful than before,
A fudden Trembling feizes me all o'er,
And leaves my Body breathlefs on the Shore.

Hard by, where two huge Mountains guard the Way,
There lyes a fearful, folitary Bay;"

Oft I've refolv'd, while on this Place I've flood,
To throw my felf into the raging Flood,
Wild with Defpair, and I will do it fill,
Since you continue thus to use me ill...
And when the kinder Waves fhall waft me o'er,
May'ft thou behold my Body on the Shore
Unburied lye; and though thy Cruelty

Harder than Stone, or than thy felf fhould be,
Yet fhalt thou cry, aftonish'd with the Show,
Phillis, I was not to be follow'd fo."

Raging with Poifons would I oft expire, and
And quench my own by a much happier Fire.
Then to revenge the Lofs of all my Reft,
Would ftab thy Image in my tortur'd Breaft

Or by a Knot (more welcome far to me

}

Than that, falfe Man, which I have ty'd with thee,) *-
Strangle that Neck, where thofe falfe Arms of thine,
With treach'rous Kindness, us'd fo oft to twineg
And as becomes a poor unhappy Wife,
epair my ruin'd Honour with my Life.

When