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Tut O! my sweet, what labour is't to leave
The thing we have not, mast'ring what not strives?
Playing the place which did no form receive;
Playing patient sports in unconstrained gives!
She that her fame so to herself contrives,
The scars of battle scapeth, by the flight,
And makes her absence valiant, not her might.
O! pardon me, in that' my boast is true;
The accident which brought me to her eye,
Upon the moment did her force subdue,
And now she would the caged cloister fly;
Not to be tempted, vrould she be immur'd; .
And now to tempt, all liberty procur'd.
How mighty then you are, O h*ar me tell! \
The broken bofoms that to me belong,
Have empty'd all their fountains in *cy well;
And mine I pour your ocean all among.
Istrong o'er them, and you o'er me being strongs.
Must for your victory us all congest,
As compound love to phyfkk your cold breast.:
My parts had power to charm a sacred sun;
Tho' disciplin'd, I dieted in grace,
Believ'd her eyes, when they t' assail begun, .
All vows and consecrations giving place.
O! most potential love! vow, bond, nor space,.
In thee hath neither siting, knot nor conssine,
For thou art all, and all things- else are thine.
When thou impressest, - what are precepts worth,..
Of stale example? When thcu wilt enssiame,
How coldly those in pediments stand forth
Of wealth, os silial sear, law, kindred, fame?
Love's arms are peace,'gainst rule, 'gainst sense,'grinfi shame,.
And sweetness in the suffering pang it bears,
Or swooning paleness; and he takes aud leaves
The Jmorous Epjlle of Paris to Helen.
Health, unto Leda's daughter, Priam's fon
My love without discovering smile takes place,
And more than I could wish, shines in my face;
When I could rather in my thoughts desire
To hide the smoke, till time display the sire:
Time, that can make the sire of love shine clear,
Untroubled with the misty smoke of sear. ,
But I dissemble it; for who,- I pray,
Can sire conceal? that will itself betray,
Yet if you look, 1 should assirm that plain
In words, which in my countenance I maintain,.
I burn, I burn, my faults I have consess'd,
My words bear witness how my looks trans^ress'dv
Oh! pardon me, thayfcave consess'd my error.
Cast not upon my litres a look «*«error;
But as your beauty is beyond compare,
Suit unto that your looks (oh! you most fair !)
That you may letter have receiv'd by this,
The supposition glads me, and I wist),
By hope encourag'd, hope that makes me strong-,.
You will receive me in some fort ere long.
I alk no more, than what the c.ucen of beauty
Hath promis'd me, for you are mine by duty.
By her I claim you, you for me were made,
And she it was my journey did persuade.
Nor, lady, think your beauty vainly sought;
I by divine instinct was hither brought:
And to this enterprize the heavenly powers
Have given consent, the gods proclaim me yours.
1 aim at wonders, for I covet you;
Yet pardon me, 1 ask but what's my due,
Venus herself my journey hither led,
And gives you freely to my promis'd bed.
Under her conduct fase the seas I past,
Till I arriv'd upon these coasts at last:
Shipping myself from the Sygean shore,
Whence unto these conssines my course I bore.
She made the surges gentle, the winds fair;
Nor marvel whence these calms proceeded are. :-.
Need must she power upon the falt seas have,
That was sea-born, - created from a wave.
Still may she stand in her ability,
And as she made the seas with much facility,.
To be thro' fail'd; so may she calm my heat,.
And bear my thoughts to-their desired seat,
My flames I found not here ; no, I protest,
I brought them with me closed in my breast;
Myself transported them without attorney,
Love was the motive to my tedious journey.
Not blust'ring winter, when he triumph'd most,.
Nor any error drove me to this coast:
Not led by fortune where the rough winds please, ..
Nor merchant-like, for gain cross'd I the seas.
Fulness of wealth in all my fleet I fee,
I'm rich in all things, fave in wanting thee.
No spoil os petty nations my ship seeks,.
Nor land I as a spy among the Greeks.
"What need we? See, os all things we have store 1
Compar'd with Troy, alas! your Greece is poor.
For thee I come, thy fame hath thus far diiven me,
Whom golden Venus hath by promise given me.
I wish'd thee ere I knew thee, long ago,
Before theseeyesdwelt on this glorious show.
I faw thee in my thoughts; know, beauteous dame^ .
I sirst beheld you with the eyes of fame.
Nor marvel, lady, I was stroke fo far.
Thus darts or arrows sent from bows of war,
Wound a great.distance osf: fo was 1 hit
With a deep smarting wound, that rankles yet. .