In whofe no lefs to be adored mind, With equal light, even diftant Virtues shin'd, Chafte, without pride; though gentle, yet not foft; Not always cruel, nor yet kind too oft: Fair Goddess of these Fields, who for our sports Is from my fight, I fear, for ever gone; But rather art amazed that I Live. Thyrfis. Thy Cafe indeed is pitiful, but yet Thou on thy lofs too great a price doft set ; Women, like Days are, Strephon, fome be far More bright and glorious than others are; Yet none fo wonderful were ever feen, But by as fair they have fucceeded been. Strephon Strephon. Others as Fair, and may as worthy prove, But fure I never fall another Love; Her bright Idea wanders in my Thought, At once my Poyfon, and my Antidote; The Stag fhall fooner with the Eagle foar: Seas leave their Fishes naked on the fhoar; The Wolf shall fooner by the Lambkin die, And from the Kid the hungry Lyon flie; Than I forget her Face: What once I love, May from my Eyes, but not my Heart remove ΤΟ To a Lady, who fled the fight of bim. By Sir George Etherege. FI my Celia cou'd perfwade I' To fee those Wounds her Eyes have made, And hear, whilft I that Paffion tell, Which, like her felf, does so excell, How foon we might be freed from Care! Such Beauty does the Nymph protect, Where Love does joyn in her defence? This This Guard might all her Fears difperfe, Then my Celia wou'd furprize With what's produc'd by her own Eyes; To a Lady, asking him how long would Love her. By the fame Author. T is not, Celia, in our power I' It our To say how long our Love will laft, may be we within this Hour May lose those Joys we now do tafte: From Change in Love are only free. Then, fince we Mortal Lovers are, Ask not how long our Love will last; But while it does, let us take care Each Minute be with Pleasure paft; Were it not madness to deny To live, because w'are fure to Die. |