A Collection of poems written upon several occasions by several persons with many additions, never before in print. 1673 Approx. 144 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 95 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A33849 Wing C5175 ESTC R13357 12278468 ocm 12278468 58573 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A33849) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 58573) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 176:41) A Collection of poems written upon several occasions by several persons with many additions, never before in print. Sedley, Charles, Sir, 1639?-1701. Poems. Selections. 1673. Etherege, George, Sir, 1635?-1691. Poems. Selections. 1673. Buckingham, John Sheffield, Duke of, 1648-1720 or 21. Poems. Selections. 1673. Behn, Aphra, 1640-1689. Poems. Selections. 1673. [6], 183 p. Printed for Tho. Collins and John Ford ... and Will. Cademan ..., London : 1673. Poems by Charles Sedley, George Etherege, John Sheffield Buckingham, Aphra Behn, and others. Second ed. Cf. NUC pre-1956. Reproduction of original in Huntington Library. Cf. Case, A.E. Poetical miscellanies, 1935, p. 100. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. 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Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng English poetry -- 17th century. 2003-05 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2003-06 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2003-07 Marika Ismail Sampled and proofread 2003-07 Marika Ismail Text and markup reviewed and edited 2003-08 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion A Collection OF POEMS Written upon several OCCASIONS By several PERSONS . With many Additions , Never before in Print . LONDON , Printed for Tho. Collins and Iohn Ford in Fleetstreet , and Will. Cademan at the Popes 〈◊〉 New-Exchange Stra●d . 1673. THE TABLE THe Temple of Death Page ● To Ce●ia . You tell me , Celia , you approve . 14 Answer 〈◊〉 , I wish as well as you 18 To Celia ▪ Princes make Laws , by which 19 To Cloris , Cloris , I justly am be●ray●d 21 To a Lady , who told him , he could not Love 22 To Cloris , Cloris , you live ador'd by all 24 A farewel to Love 27 Song Though , Phillis , your prevailing Charms 28 Epilogue , to every Man in his humour 29 To a very ●o●ng Lady 32 The Forsaken Mistress 33 The Divided Heart 36 To M. J. N. on his Translations out of French and Italian 37 〈◊〉 Urania 40 To S●lvi T●e Nymph that undoe● me 41 To Celia . As in those Nations where 42 The Submission 43 C●nstancy 44 T●e ●●d●fference 46 A Pastor●l Dialogue 49 To a Lady , who fled the sight of him 52 To a Lady who askt him how long he would Love her 53 Song . Tell me no more you love in vain 54 To the Marchioness of New Castle , on her Poems 56 Epilogue to Tartuff 5● The Imperfect Enjoyment 61 Prologue at the opening of the D●ke's New Play-House 65 Falling in Love with a Stranger at a Play 67 Indifference excused 69 T●e Platonick 71 To a D●vout Young Woman 73 Song . When Aur●lia first became 74 To Cloris Cloris , I cannot say your Eyes 76 Song . A●relia , art thou mad 77 Song . Love still has something of the Sea 79 A Dial●gue between Amintas and Celia 82 Song . Get you gone , you will undo me 85 Song . Phillis , you have enough enjoy'd 88 Song . Madam , for your Commands to stay 89 Awake my Eyes , at night my thoughts pursue 90 Song Phillis , le ts shan the Common Fate ib. Distich 92 The painted Apples that adorn ib. Song . Not Celia , that I juster am 94 Thirsis , no more against my flame advise 95 Song . I ask not my Celia would love me again 97 Song Drink about till the day finde us 98 Song Walking among thick shades alone 99 Song . As I sat thoughtfull in a shade 102 ●ong . The Grave my Envy now begets 106 The Ballers Life , A S●ng 108 Song When Cold De●p●i● 109 To Celia . Celia . the faithful servant you disown , 116 To Celia . All things submit themselves to your Commands 113 As he la● in the Plain , his Arm 116 Song . How charming are those pleasant . 118 Song . Give o're foolish heart , and make haste . 120 Song . With so much ingrateful Swains 121 Song : Dear Am●nda , in vain you so coily . 127 A Panegyrick sent by a Gentleman to his Mystress with his Picture . 124 A Letter sent from a Gentleman to his Friend . 12● A Memento Mori . 134 Song . Of ●ll the brisk Dancers . 135 The Pot Rapsodes . 136 Song . It is not . Chloris : 137 Song . Ah , Chloris . 140 Song , To Chloris 141 Octavio to Portia 142 Song . When as my Thirsis 144 Song . Though Damon . 148 Song . If thou boast 149 Song . To Lucinda . 150 To 〈◊〉 Mystress 152 So●g . Fa●th , now my Dear 154 To 〈◊〉 . 155 The distract●d Lover to the Ayre of , Awake all ye 〈◊〉 . 156 To La●rinda 1●8 Prologue to the Impertinent , Acted at the Mid●le Temple 159 Prologue at Oxford 161 Prologue to the Ord●●ary . 163 Epilogue to the Ordinary 166 A Prologue spoken at Court to the Emp●ress of Morocco 168 A Part spoken by the Lady Elizabeth Howard . 170 Another Prologue spoken at Court to the Emperess of Morocco 1●2 Song . Forgive me . Jove . 175 Song . A● ! cruel eyes 176 Song . Nay Let me alone 177 Song . In the Dutch Lover 1●8 Song . O● the time that is past ●●8 Song . On the London Ladies 183 THE TEMPLE OF DEATH . IN those cold Climates where the Sun appears Unwillingly , and hides his face in tears , A dreadful Vale lies in a Desart-Isle , On which indulgent Heaven did never smile . There a vast Grove of aged Cypress Trees , Which none without an awful horrour sees , Into its wither'd arms dep●iv'd of leaves , Whole flocks of ill-presaging Birds receives ; Poysons are all the plants the soyl will bear , And Winter is the only season there . Millions of graves cover the spacious field , And springs of blood a thousand Rivers yield , Whose streams opprest with carcases and bones , Instead of gentle murmurs , pour forth groans . Within this Vale a famous Temple stands , Old as the Universe which it commands ; Round is its figure , and four Iron Gates Divide the World by order of the Fates . There come in crouds doomd to one common grave The young , the old , the Monarch and the Slave . Old age , and pains which Mankind most deplores , Are faithful Keepers of those sacred doors ; All clad in mournful blacks , which also load The sacred walls of this obscure abode , And Tapers of a pitchy substance made , With clouds off noak increase the dismal shade ▪ A Monster void of Reason and of Sight , The Goddess is that sways this Realm of Night ▪ Her Power extends o're all things that have breath , A cruel Tyrant , and her name is Death . The fairest object of our wondring eyes Was newly offer'd up her sacrifice ; Th' adjoyning places where the Altar stood , Yet blushing with the fair Almeria's blood . When sad Melintus , whose unhappy flame Is known by all that ere converst with fame ; His mind possest with fury and despair , Within the sacred Temple made this prayer : Great Deity ▪ who in thy hands dost bear That rusty Scepter which poor Mortals fear , Who wanting eyes thy self respectest none ; And neither spar'st the Lawrel nor the Crown , Oh! thou whom all Mankind in vain withstands , Each of whose blood must one day stain thy hands : Oh , thou that every eye which sees the light , Closest again in an eternal night , Open thy ears , and hearken to my grief , To which thy Power alone can give relief ; I come not hither to prolong my fate , But wish my wretched life a shorter date : And that the Earth would in its bowels hide A soul which Heaven invades on every side ; That from the sight of day I might remove , And might have nothing left me but my love . Thou only Comforter of Mindes opprest , The Port where wearied spirits are at rest ; Conductet to Illysium , take my life , My brest I offer to thy sacred knife : So just a grace deny not , nor despise A willing , though a worthless , sacrifice . Others their frail and mortal state forgot , Before thy Altars are not to be brought Without constraint : the noise of dying rage , Heaps of the slain of every sex and age , The blade all reaking in the gore it shed , With several heads and arms confus'dly spread , The rapid flames of a perpetual fire , The groans of wretches ready to expire : This Tragick Scene makes them in terrour live , Till that is forc'd which they should freely give ; Yielding unwillingly what Heaven wil● have , Their fears eclipse the glory of their Grave . Before thy face they make undecent moan , And feel an hundred deaths in fearing one ; The flame becomes unhallowed in their br●st , And he a Murtherer who was a Priest ; His hands profan'd in breaking Natures chain , By which the body does the fool detain : But against me thy strongest forces call , And on my head let all the tempest fall ; No shrinking back shall any weakness shew . And calmly I 'le expect the fatal blow . My limbs no trembling , in my mind no fear , Plaints in my mouth , nor in my eyes a tear . Think not that time , our wonted sure relief , That universal cure for every grief , VVhose aid so many Lovers oft have found , VVith like success can ever heal my wound : Too weak's the Power of Nature , or of Art , Nothing but death can ease a broken heart . And that thou mayst behold my helpless state , Learn the extreamest rigour of my fate : Amidst th'innumerable beauteous Train Paris , the Queen of Cities , does contain The fairest Town , the greatest , and the best , So fair Almeria shin'd above the rest . From h●r bright eyes to feel a hopeless flame , Was of our youth the most ambitious aim ; Her chains were marks of honour to the brave , She made a Prince whe●e're she made a S●av● . Love , under whose tyrannick power I gr●an , Shew'd me this B●auty ere ' ●was fully blown ; Her doubtf●l hand , and her anpractis'd look , Their first assurance from my Conquest took ; By wounding me she lea●●t the fatal Art , And the first sigh she had was from my heart . My eyes with tears wetting her snowy arms , Render'd the tribute due unto her charms : But as I soonest of all Mortals paid My vows , and to her beauty al●●rs made , So amongst all those slaves that sigh'd in vain , She thought me only worthy of her chain . Lov●s heavy burden , my submissive heart Endur'd not long before the bore her part , My violent flame melted her frozen brest , And in soft sighs her pity she exprest Her gentle voice allayd my raging pains , And her fair hands sustain'd me in my chains Tears from her eyes attended on my moan , And they lookt kindly upon me alone . My hopes and dangers were less mine then hers , Those filled her soul with joys , and these with tears . Our hearts united had the same desires And both alike burn'd with impatient fires ▪ Too faithful Memory , I give thee leave Thy wretched Master kindly to deceive . Make me not once possessor of her charms ▪ Let me not find her languish in my arms Past joyes are now my cruel fancies Theams , Make all my happy nights appear but dreams . Let not those scenes before my eyes be brought , But hide her love from my tormenting thought And in its place disdainful beauty shew , I● thou would'st not be cruel , make her so , And something to abate my deep despair , Oh let her seem less gentle , or less fair . But I in vain flatter my wounded mind , Never was Nymph so lovely , or so kind . No cold repulses my desires supprest , I seldom sigh'd but on Almeria's brests . Of all the passions which mankind destroy , I only felt excess of love and joy . Numberless pleasures charmed my sence , and they Were as my love , without the least allay : As pure , alas , but not so sure to last , For , like a pleasant dream they all are past . From Heaven her beauty like fierce lightning came which breaks through darknes with a glorious flame A while it ●hines , a while our sight it chears , But soon the sh●rt-liv'd comfort disappears , And thunder follows , whose resistless rage None can withstand , and nothing can asswage . So oft the light which those bright flashes gave , Serves to conduct us only to our Grave . When I had first 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 plac'd upon the Sand : Under this Law both Kings and Crowns must be●●● For no beginning is without an end . A sacrifice to Time Fate dooms us all , And at the Tyrants feet we daily fall ; Time , whose bold hand alike does bring to dust Mankind , and Gods in which Mankind does trust : Though now her wasted spirits begin to faint , Her patience ties her tongue from all complaint , And in her heart as in a Fort remains , But yet at last yields t● her resistless pains . Thus while the Fever amorous of his prey , Through all her veins makes his delightful way● Her Fates like Semile's , the Flames destroy That beauty they too eagerly enjoy . Her charming face is in its Spring decay'd , Pale grows the Roses , and the Lillies fade . Her skin has lost that ●ustre , which surpast The Sun's , and did deserve 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 n●w heavily and slowly move , And sorrow triumphs in the Throne of Love. The Fever every moment more prevails , Its rage her body fee●s , and Tongue bewails ▪ She who●e disdain so many Lovers prove , Sighs new for Torment , as they ●●gh for Love , And with loud crys , which rend the neighb'ring air Wounds my sad heart , and wakens my despair . Both gods and men I charge now with my loss , And wild with gries , my thoughts each other cross My heart and tongue labour in both extreams , That sends up humble prayrs , while this blasphemes I ask their help whose Power I defie , And mingle sacriledge with Piety . But that which do's still more perplex my mind , To love her truly , I must seem unkind ; So unconcern'd a face my sorrow wears , I still 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 dye ? When Reason had with all its terrours brought Th● approaching danger nearer to my thought ▪ Off on a sudden fell the forc't disguise , And shew'd a sighing heart in weeping eyes , My apprehensions now no more confin'd , Expos'd my sorrows , and betrayd my mind , The fair afflicted , Soan perceives my tears , Explains my sighs , and thence concludes my fears , 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 senfi●●e of hers alone ; Each does the others burden kindly bear , I fear her Death , and the bewa●ls my fear ▪ Although we suffer under Fortunes darts , 'T is those of Love alone which reach our hearts . Mean-while the Fever mocks at all our fears , Grows by our sighs , and rages at our tears ; Those vain effects of our as vain desire , Like Wind and Oyl increase the fatal fire . Almeria feeling th'unjust destinies About to shut her lips , and close her eyes , Weeping , in mine put her fair trembling hand , And with these words I scarce could understand ; Her Passion in a dying voice express'd Half : and her sighs , alas , made out the rest . 'T is past , this pang Nature forsakes the strife , Thou must thy Mystriss lose , and I my Life . I die , but dying thine , the Fates may prove Their Conquest over me , but not my Love ; Thy Memory , my Glory , and my pain , In spight of Death it self , shall still remain , Ah! Dear Melintus , my hard Fate denies That hope is the last thing which in us di●s : From my grievd brest all those soft thoughts are fled And love survives , although my hope is dead ; Yyield my life , but keep my Passion yet , And can all thoughts but of Melintus quit . My flame in●reases as my strength decayes , Death , that puts out the light , the heat does raise , Which leavs me not , though I from hence remove I lose my Lover , but I keep my Love. The figh which sent forth that last tender word , Up towards the Heavens like a bright meteor soar'd And the kind Nymph bereft of all her Charms , Falls cold and breathless in her Lovers Arms , VVhich shews , since Death deny'd him then relief ; That 't is in vain men hope to die with grief . Goddess , that now my Fate has understood , Spare but my tears , and freely take my blood , Here let me end the story of my cares , My grief it self enough the rest declares ▪ Thou seest by all my misery thus display'● ▪ VVhether I ought not to implore thy aid , Thus to survive a guilt upon me draws , And my sad wishes have too just a caus●●● Come then , my only hope , in every place , Thou visitest , men tremble at thy face , And fear thy name , once let thy fatal hand Destroy a Swain , that doth the blow demand . Vouchsafe thy Dart , I need not one of those , With which thou dost unwilling Kings depose , Thy weakest my desir'd release will bring , And free my Soul already on her wing . To CELIA . YOu tell me , Celia , you approve , Yet never must return my love ▪ An answer that my hope destroys , And in the cradle wounds our joys ; To kill at once what needs must die , None would to birds and beasts deny How can you than s● crue● prove , As to preserve , and ●●rture love . That beauty Nature kindly meant For her own pride , and our content ; Why should the Tyrant honour make Our greatest torment ▪ let us break His yoke , and that base power dis●ain , Which only keeps the good in pain . In Love and War th' Impostor ●o's The best to greatest harms expose . Come then , my Ce●●a , let 's no more This Devil for a God adore ; Like foo●ish Indians we have been , Whose whole Religion is a sin ▪ If we the Laws of Love had kept , And not in d●eams of Hon●ur slept , He wou'd have surely , long ere this , Have crown'd us with the highest bliss ; Our Joy had then been as compleat , As now our Folly has been great : Let 's lose no time then , but repent , Love wlecome's best a Penitent . ANSWER : THirsis , I wish , as well as you , To Honour there were nothing due ▪ Then would I pay my debt of love In the same coin that you approve ; Which now you must in friendship take , T is all the payment I can make ; Friendship so high , that I must say , T is rather love with some allay . And rest contented , since that I As well my self as you deny . Learn then of me bravely to bear The want of what you hold most dear ; And that which Honour does in me , Let my example work on thee . To CELIA . PRinces make laws by which their subjects live And the high gods rules for their worship give How should poor Mortals else a service find At all proportion'd to their mighty Mind ? Had it been left to us , each one would bring , Of what he lik'd himself , an offering ; And with unwelcom zeal perhaps displease Th' offended Deity he would appease . All powers but thine this mercy do allow , And how they wou'd be serv'd themselves do shew A rude Barbarian wou'd his captiv'd fo Fully instruct in what he 'd have him do . And can it be , my Celia , that Lov● Less kind then War shou'd to the vanquisht prove ; Say , cruel Fair , then , would you that my flame Shou'd for a while move under friendships name ; Or may it boldly like it self appear , And its own tale deliver to your ear , Or must it in my tortur'd bosome live Like fire in quiet flints , and no light give ; And only then humbly send forth a small Spark , when your self does on that subject fall ; My passion can with any laws comply , And for your sake do any thing , but die . To CLORIS . Cloris , I justly am betray'd By a design my self had laid , Like an old Rook , whom in his cheat A run of Fortune does defeat . thought at first with a small sum Of love , thy heap to overcome ; Presuming on thy want of art , Thy gentle and unpractis'd heart . But naked Beauty can prevail , Like open force , when plots do fail . Instead of that thou hast all mine , And I have not one stake of thine : And , like all winners , do'st discover A willingness to give me over . And though I beg , thou wilt not now ; 'T were better thou should'st do so too For I so far in debt shall run , Even thee I shall be forc't to shun . My hand , alas , is no more mine , Else it had long ago been thine , My heart I give thee , and we call No man unjust that parts with all . What a Priest says moves not the mind , Souls are by love , not words , combin'd . To a Lady , who told him he could not Love. MAdam , though meaner Beauties might , Perhaps , have need of some such slight ; Who to excuse their Rigour , must Say they our passions do mistrust , And that they wou'd more pity shew , Were they but sure our loves were tru● . You shou'd those petty Arts despise , Secure of what is once your prize , We to our Slaves no frauds address , But as they are our minds express . Tell me not then I cannot Love , Say , rather , you it ne're can move ; Who can no more doubt of your charms , Then I resist such pow'rful arms : Whose numerous force that I withstood So long , was not through any hope I cou'd Escape their pow'r , but through despair , Which oft makes Courage on t of fear . I trembling saw how you us'd those Who tamely yielded without blows : Had you but one of all them spar'd , I might , perhaps , have been ensnar'd , And not have thus , e're I did yield , Call'd Love's whole Force into the Field . Yet now I 'm Conquer'd I will prove Faithful as they that never strove . All flames in matter where too fast They do not seize , the longer last . Then blame not mine for moving slow Since all things durable are so . The Oak that 's for three hundred years Design'd in growing , one out-wears . Whilst flowers for a season made Quickly spring up , and quickly fade , To CLORIS . CLoris , you live ador'd by all , And yet on none your favours fall . A stranger Mistress ne're was known ▪ You pay us all in Paying none . We him of avarice accuse , Who what he has does fear to use But what disease of mind shall I Call this thy hated penury ? Thou wilt not give out of a store , Which no profuseness can make poor . Misers , when dead , may make amends . And in their Wills enrich their friends ; But when thou dy'st , thy Treasure dies , And thou canst leave no Legacies . What madness is it then to spare , VVhen we want power to make an Heir ? Live , Cloris , then at the full rate , Of thy great Beauty ; and since Fate To Love , and Youth , is so severe ; Enjoy'm freely while th' art here . Some caution yet I 'de have thee use , Whene're thou dost a servant chuse . We are not all for Lovers fit , No more then Arms or Arts of Wit. For Wisdom some respected are , Some we see pow'rful at the Bar ; Some for Preferment waste their time And the steep Hill of Honour climb ; Others of Love their business make , In Love their whole diversion take . Take one of those , for in one brest Two passions live but ill at rest : And even , of them , I 'de have thee fly All that take flame at every eye . All those that light and faithless are , All that dare more then think thee fai●● Take one of Love who nothing says , And yet whom every word betrays . Love in the cradle pretty shews , And when 't can speak unruly grows . A Farewel to Love. ONce more Loves mighty chains are broke , His strength and cunning I defie , Once more I have thrown off his yoke , And am a man , and do despise the Boy . Thanks to her pride , and her disdain , And all the follies of a scornful mind , I had ne're possest my heart again , If fair Miranda had been kind . Welcome fond wanderer , as ease And plenty to a wretch in pain , That worn with want and a disease , Enjoys his health and all his friends again . Let others waste their time and youth , VVatch and look pale , to gain a peevish maid , And learn too late this dear-bought truth , At length they 're sure to be betray'd . THough , Phillis , your prevailing charms Have forc'd me from my Celia's arms That kind defence against all powers , But those resistless eyes of yours : Think not your conquest to maintain , By rigour and un●ust disdain ; In vain , fair Nymph , in vain you strive For love does seldom hope survive . My heart may languish for a time , Whilest all your Glories in their prime Can justifie such cruelty . By the same force that conquer'd me , When age shall come , at whose command Those troops of beauties must disband ; A Tyrants strength once took away , What slave so dull as to obey ! EPILOGUE To every Man in his humour . IN treaty shall not serve nor violence ▪ To make me speak in such a Playes defence . A Play where Wit and Humour do agree To break all practis'd Laws of Comedy : The Scene ( what more absurd ) in England lies , No Gods descend , nor dancing Devils rise ; No captive Prince from nameless Country brought No battel , nay , there 's not a duel fought . And something yet more sharply might be said , But I consider the poor Author's dead ; Let that be his excuse — Now for our own , VVhy — Faith , in my opinion , we need none . The parts were fitted well ; but some will say , Pox on 'em Rogues what made 'em chuse this Play ? I do not doubt but you will credit me , It was not choice , but meer necessity ; To all our writing friends , in Town , we sent , But not a VVit durst venture out in Lent ; Have patience but till Easter-Term , and then You shall have Jigg and Hobby-horse agen . Here 's Mr. Matthew , our domestique VVit , Does promise one of the ten Plays h 'as writ ; But since great bribes weigh nothing with the just Know , we have merits , and in them we trust ; VVhen any Fasts , or Holy-days , defer The publick labours of the Theatre , We ride not forth although the day be fair , On ambling Tit to take the Suburb-air , But with our Authors meet , and spend that time To make up quarrels between sence and rhyme . Wednesdays and Fridays constantly we sate Till after many a long and free debate , For divers weighty reasons 't was thought fit , Unruly sence shu'd still to rhyme submit . This the most wholesom Law we ever made . So strictly in this Epilogue obey'd , Sure no man here will ever dare to break . Enter Johnson's Ghost . Hold , and give way , for I my self will speak , Can you encourage so much insolence , And add new faults still to the great offence Your Ancestors so rashly did commit Against the mighty Powers of Art and Wit ? When they condemn'd those noble works of mine Sejanus , and my best lov'd Cataline : Repent , or on your guilty heads shall fall The curse of many a rhyming Pastoral : The three bold Beauchamps shall revive again , And with the London Prentice conquer Spain All the dull follies of the former age Shall rise and find applause upon this Stage . But if you pay the great arrears of praise , So long since due to my much injur'd Plays , From all past crimes I first will set you free , And then inspire some one to write like me . To a very Young Lady . SWeetest bud of Beauty , may No untimely frost decay Th' early glories which we trace , Blooming in thy matchless face ; But kindly opening , like the Rose , Fresh beauties every day disclose , Such as by Nature are not shewn In all the blossoms she has blown : And then what conquest shall you make , Who hearts already dayly take ; Scorcht in the Morning with thy beams , How shall we bear those sad extreams Which must attend thy threatning eyes When thou shalt to thy Noon arise The forsaken Mistress . DIALOGUE . Phil. TEll me , gentle Strephon , why You from my Embraces fly ; Does my love thy love destroy ; Tell me , I will yet be coy . Stay , O stay , and I will feign ( Th●●gh I break my h●art ) disdain ; But lest I too unkind appear , For ev'ry frown I le shed a tear . And if in vain I court thy love , Let mine , at least , thy pity move : Ah while I scorn , vouchsafe to woo , Methinks you may dissemble too . Str. Ah Phillis , that you wou'd contrive A way to keep my love alive , But all your other charms must fail , When kindness ceases to prevail . Alas ! no less then you , I grieve , My dying flame has no reprieve , For I can never hope to find , Shou'd all the Nymphs I court be kind , One Beautie able to renew Those pleasures I enjoy in you , When Love and Youth did both conspire To fill our breasts and veins with fire . 'T is true , some other Nymph may gain That heart which merits your disdain , But second Love has still allay , The joys grow aged , and decay . Then blame me not for losing more Then Love and Beauty can restore : And let this truth thy comfort prove , I wou'd , but can no longer love . The Divided Heart . AH ! Celia , that I were but sure Thy l●ve , like mine , cou'd still endure ; T●at time and absence , which distroy The cares of Lovers , and their joy , Cou'd never rob me of that part Which you have giv'n me of your heart ; ●●●ers unenvy'd might possess Whole hearts , and boast that happiness . T was nobler Fortune to divide The Roman Empire in her pride ●●en on so●e low and barb'rous Throne , 〈◊〉 p●a●'d , to rule alone . Love only from thy heart exacts The several d●bts thy face contracts , And by that new and juster way ●●cures thy Empire and his sway ▪ Fav'ring but one he might compel The hopeless Lover to rebel . But shou'd he other hearts thus share , That in the whole so worthless are , Shou'd into several squadrons draw That strength which kept entire cou'd awe , Men would his scatter'd powers deride , And conqu'ring Him those spoils divide . TO Mr J. N. on his Translations out of French and Italian . WHile others toil our Country to supply With what we need only for Luxury , Spices , and Silk , in the rich East provide , To glut our Avarice and feed our pride You forreign learning prosperously transmit , To raise our Virtue ; and provoke our Wit. You ●orreign learning prosperously transmit , To raise our Vertue , and provoke our Wit. Such brave designs your gen'rous soul inflame To be a bold Adventurer for Fame ; How much oblig'd are Italy and France , While with your voice their Musick you advance ? Your growing Fame with Envy can oppose , Who sing with no less art then they compose ; In these attempts so few have had success , Their Beauties suffer in our English dress : By artless hands spoil'd of their native air , They seldom pass from moderately fair : As if you meant these injuries to atone , You give them charms more conqu'ring then their own Not like the dull laborious Flatterer , With secret art those graces you confer . The skilful Painters with slight stroaks impart , That subtil beauty which affects the heart . There are who publickly profess they hate Translations , and yet all they write translate : So proud , they scorn to drive a lawfull trade , Yet by their wants are shameless P●rates made ▪ These you incense , while you their thefts reveal Or else prevent in what they meant to steal From all besides ; you are secure of praise , But you so high our expectation raise , A gen●ral discontent we shall declare , If such a workman only shou'd repair . You to the dead your Piety have shewn , Adorn'd their monuments , now build your own : Drawn in the East , we in your lines may trace That Genius which of old inspir'd the place : The banish'd Muses back to Greece you bring , Where their best airs you so divinely sing ; The world must own they are by you restor'd To sacred shades , where they were first ador'd . Virtues Vrania . HOpeless I languish out my days , Struck with Urania's conqu'ring eyes : The wretch at whom she darts these rayes Must feel the wound untill he dies . Though endless be her cruelty , Calling her beauties to my mind , I bow beneath her tyranny , And dare not murmur she 's unkind Reason this tamness does upbraid , Proff●●ing to arm in my defence ; But when I call her to my aid , She 's more a Traitor then my sense . No sooner I the warr declare But strait her succour she denies , And joyning forces with the fair , Confirms the conquest of her ey●s . Silvia . THe Nymph that undoes me , is fair & unkind No less then a wonder by Nature design'd ; She 's the grief of my heart , the joy of my eye , And the cause of a flame that never can die . Her mouth from whence wit still obligingly flows Has the beautiful blush , and the smell of the rose ; Love and destiny both attend on her will , She wounds with a look , with a frown she can kill The desperate Lover can hope no redress , Where beautie and rigour are both in excess ; In Silvia they meet , so unhappy am I , Who sees her most love , & who loves her must die . To Celia AS in those Nations where they yet adore Marble and Cedar , and their aid implore , 'T is not the Workman , nor the precious Wood , But 't is the Worshipper that makes the God : So , cruel Fair , though Heaven has giv'n thee all We Mortals ( Virtue , or can Beauty ) call , T is we that give the Thunder to your frowns , Darts to your Eyes , and to our selves the wounds . Without our Love , which proudly you deride , Vain were your Beauty , and more vain your Pride ▪ All envy'd beings that the world can shew , Still to some meaner thing their greatness ow ; Subjects make Kings , and we ( the numerous Train Of humble Lovers ) constitute thy Reign . This difference only Beauties Realm may boast ; Where most it favours , it enslaves the most And they to whom it is indulgent found , Are ever in the rudest fetters bound . What Tyrant yet , but thee , was ever known , Cruel to those that serv'd to make him one . Valour 's a Vice , if not with Honour joyn'd , And Beauty a Disease , when 't is not kind . The Submission . AH ! Pardon , Madam , if I ever thought Your smallest favors could too dear be bought And the just greatness of your Servants flame I did the poorness of their spirits name ; Calling their due attendance , Slavery , Your power of Life and Death , flat Tyranny ; Since now I yield , and do confess there is No way too hard that leads to such a bliss . So when Hippomanes beheld the Race , Where loss was Death , and Conquest but a Face , He stood amazed at the fatal strife , Wondring that Love shou'd dearer be then Lise But when he saw the Prize , no longer staid , But through those very dangers sought the Maid , And won her too : O may his Conquest prove A happy Omen to my purer Love , Which , if the honour of all Victory In the resistance of the Vanquisht lie , Though it may be the least regarded Prize , Is not the smallest Trophy of your eyes . Constancy . FEar not , my Dear , a slame can never die , That is once kindled by so bright an eye : Look on thy self , and measure thence my love Think what a passion such a form must move ; For though thy Beauty first allur'd my sight , Yet now I look on it but as the light That led me to the treasury of thy mind , Whose inward virtue in that feature shin'd . That knot ( be confiden● ) will ever last , Which Fancy ty'd , and Reason has made fast ; So fast , that time ( although it may disarm Thy lovely face ) my faith can never harm ; And age , deluded when it comes , will find My love remov'd , and to thy soul assign'd . The passion I have now shall ne're grow less , No , though thy own fair self should it oppress I could e'en hazard my Eternity , Love but again , and ▪ twill a Heaven be . The Indifference . THanks , fair Urania , to your scorn , I now am free as I was born ▪ Of all the pain that I endur'd By your late coldness , I am c●r'd . ●n losing me , proud Nymph , you lose The humblest Slave your Beauty knows , In losing you , I but throw down A cruel Tyran●t from her Throne . ● must confess I ne're could fin● Your equal , or in shape , or mind . Y 'ave beauty , wit , and all things know , But where you shou'd your love bestow . ● unawares my freedom gave , And to those Tyrants grew a Slave ; But would y 'ave kept what you have won , You should have more compassion shewn . Love is a burthen , which two hearts , When equally they bear their parts , With pleasure carry ▪ but no one , Alas , can bear it long alone . ●'m not of those who co●rt their pain , And make an Idol of 〈◊〉 ; My hope in Love does ne're exp●re , But I lose also the desire . Nor yet of those , who ill receiv'd , Would gladly have str●nge things believ'd And if your heart you do ●ef●nd , Their force against your honour bend ▪ Who e're does make his Victor less , His own low weakness does confess ; And whiles her pow'r he does defame , He poorly doubles his own shame . Even that malice does betray , And speak concern another way : And all such scorn in men is but The smoke of fires ill put out . He 's still in torment whom the rage To detraction does engage ; In Love Indifference is sure The only sign of perfect cure . Yet , cruel Fair , if thou canst prove As happy in some other love , As I could once have done in thine , The Sun on happier does not shine . A Pastoral Dialogue . Thirsis . STrephon ! O Strephon ! once the jolliest Lad That with shrill Pipe did ever Mountain glad While'ome the formost at our Rural Playes , The Pride and Glory of our Holy-days : Why dost thou now s●t musing all alone ; Teaching the Turtles yet a sadder groan ▪ Swel'd with thy Tears , why does the neighb'ring Broo● Bear to the Ocean what she never took ? Why do our Woods , so us'd to hear thee Sing ▪ With nothing now but with thy Sorrows ring ? Thy Flocks are well and fruitful , and no Swain Then thee more welcome to the Hill or Plain . Strephon. No loss of these , or care of those are left , Hath wretched Strephon of his peace berest , I could invite the Wolf , my cruel Guest , And play unmovd while he on all did feast ; I could endure that every Swain out-run , Out-threw , out wrestl'd , and each Nymph shou'd shun The hapless Strephon : But the Gods , I find , To no such trifles have this Heart design'd ; A feller grief , and sadder loss , I plain , Then ever Shepherd , or did Prince , sustain ; Bright Galatea , in whose matchless face Sateru al nnocence with heavenly grace , In whose no less to be adored mind , With equal light , even distant virtues shin'd , Chaste , without pride ; though gentle , yet not soft ; Not always cruel , nor yet kind too oft : Fair Goddess of these Fields , who for our sports , Though she might well become despised Courts , Belov'd of all , and loving one alone , Is from my sight , I fear , for ever gone ; Now I am sure thou wondrest not , I grieve : But rather art amazed that I live . Thirsis , Thy case indeed is pitiful , but yet Thou on thy loss too great a price dost set ; Women , like days are , Strephon , some be far More bright and glorious then others are ; Yet none so wonderful were ever seen , But by as fair they have succeeded been . Strephon , Others as fair , and may as worthy prove , But sure I never shall another love ; Her bright Idea wanders in my thought , At once my Poyson , and my Antidote ; The Stag shall sooner with the Eagle soar , Seas leave their Fishes naked on the shoar ; The Wolf shall sooner by the Lambkin die , And from the Kid the hungry Lion flie , Then I forget her face ; what once I love , May from my eyes , but not my heart remove . To a Lady , who fled the sight of him . IF I my Celia cou'd perswade To see those wounds her eyes have made , And hear whilst I that passion tell , Which , like her self , does so excel , How soon we might be freed from care ! She need not fear , nor I despair . Such Beauty does the Nymph protect , That all approach her with respect ; And can I offer violence Where love does joyn in her defence ? This guard might all her fears disperse , Did she with Savages converse . Then my Celia wou'd surprize With what 's produc'd by her own eyes ; Those matchless flames which they inspire In her own Breast , shou'd raise a fire For Love , but with more subtil Art , As well as Beauty charms the Heart . To a Lady , asking him how long he would love her . IT is not , Celia , in our power To say how long our love will last , It may be we within this hour May lose those joys we now do taste ; The Blessed , that immortal be , From change in love are only free . Then , since 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 past ; Were it not madness to deny To live , because w' are sure to die ; SONG . TEll me no more you love ; in vain , Fair Celia , You this passion feign ; Can they pretend to love , who do Refuse what Love perswades them to ; Who once has felt his active flame , Dull Laws of Honour will disdain ; You wou'd be thought his Slave , and yet You will not to his pow'r submit . More cruel then those Beauties are , Whose coyness wounds us to despair ; For all the kindness which you shew , Each smile and kiss which you bestow , Are like those cordials which we give To dying men , to make them live ▪ And languish out an hour in pain ; Be kinder , Ceiia , or disdain . TO HER EXCELLENCE , THE Marchioness OF NEW-CASTLE , After the Reading of Her incomparable POEMS . Madam , WIth so much wonder we are struck When we begin to read your matchless Book , A while your own excess of merit stays Our forward Pens , and does suspend your Praise , Till time our minds does gently recompose , Allays this wonder , and our duty shews , Instructs us how your Virtues to proclaim , And what we ought to pay to your Great Fame ; Your Fame , which in your Country has no bounds , But wheresoever Learning 's known resounds . Those Graces Nature did till now divide , Your Sexes Glory , and our Sexes Pride , Are joyn'd in you ; and all to you submit , The brightest Beauty , and the sharpest Wit. No Faction here , or fiery Envy sways , They give you Myrtle , while we offer Bays . What Mortal dares dispute those Wreaths with you Arm'd thus with Lightning , and with Thunder too ? This made the Great Newcastle's Heart your Prize , Your Charming Soul , and your Victorious eyes Had only pow'r his Martial Mind to tame , And raise in his Heroick Breast a Flame : A Flame , which with his Courage still aspires As if immortal Fuel fed those Fires : This Mighty Chief , and your Great Self made One , Together the same Race of Glory run ; Together in the Wings of Fame you move , Like yours , his Virtue : and like yours , his Love. While we your Praise endeav'ring to rehearse , Pay that great Duty in our humble Verse , Such as may justly move your Anger , You , Like Heaven , forgive them , and accept them too But what we cannot , your brave Hero payes , He builds those Monuments we strive to raise : Such as to after-Ages shall make known , While he records your Deathless Fame , his own . So when an Artist some rare Beauty draws , Both in our wonder share , and our applause : His skill from Time secures the Glorious Dame , And makes himself immortal in her Fame . EPILOGUE TO TARTUFF , Spoken by Himself , MAny have been the vain attempts of Wit Against the still-prevailing Hypocrite : Once , and but once , a Poet got the day , And vanquish'd Busy in a Puppet-play : But Busy rallying , arm'd with zeal , and rage , Possest the Pulpit , and pull'd down the Stage . To laugh at English Knaves is dang'rous then , While English Fools will think them honest Men : But sure no zealous Brother can deny us Free leave with this our Monsieur Ananias . A Man may say , without being call'd an Atheist , There are Damn'd Rogues among the French and Papist That fix Salvation to short band and Hair , That belch and snuffle to prolong a Pray'r ? That use t' enjoy the Creature to express Plain VVhoring , Gluttony , and Drunkenness ? And in a decent way perform them too , As well , nay better far , alas , then you ; Whose fleshly failings are but Fornication , We godly phrase it , Gospel-Propagation , Just as Rebellion was call'd Reformation . Zeal stands but Centr'y at the Gate of Sin , Whilst all that have the Word pass freely in Silent , and in the dark , for fear of Spies , You march , and take Damnation by surprize , There 's not a roaring Blade in all this Town Can go so far tow'rds Hell for half a Crown , As I for six Pence , for we know the way ; For want of Guides Men often go astray : Therefore give ear to what I shall advise , Let every married Man , that 's grave and wise , Take a Tartuff , of known ability , To teach and to instruct his Family , Who may so settle lasting Reformation , First get his Son , then give him Education . The Imperfect Enjoyment . AFter a pretty amorous discourse , She does resist my love with pleasing force ; Mov'd not with Anger , but with Modesty , Against her will she is my Enemy . Her eyes the rudeness of her Arms excuse , Whilst those accept what these seem to refuse ; To ease my passion , and to make me blest , Th'obliging smock falls from her whiter breast ; Then with her lovely hands she does conceal Those wonders Chance so kindly did reveal ; In vain , alas , her nimble fingers strove To shield her Beauties from my greedy Love ; Guarding her Breasts , her Lips she did expose , To save a Lilly she must lose a Rose ; So many charms she has in ev'ry place , A hundred hands cannot defend each Grace . Sighing at length her force she does recal , For since I must have Part , she 'll give me All. Her arms the joyful Conqueror embrace , And seem to guide me to the fought-for place . Her love is in her sparkling eyes exprest , She falls o' th' bed for pleasure , more then rest . But Oh , strange passion ! Oh , abortive joy ! My zeal does my devotion quite destroy Come to the Temple where I shou'd adore My Saint , I worship at the sacred door ; Oh , cruel chance ! the Town which did oppose My strength so long , now yields to my dispose ; When , overjoy'd with victory , I fall Dead at the foot of the surrender'd wall Without the usual Ceremony , we Have both fulfill'd the am'rous mystery The action which we shou'd have joyntly done , Each has unluckily perform'd alone ; The Union which our Bodies shou'd enjoy , The Union of our eager souls destroy . Our flames are punish'd by their own excess , W'd had more pleasure had our Loves been less ; She blush'd and frown'd , perceiving we had done ; The sport she thought we scarce had yet begun ; Alas , said I , condemn your self , not me , This is th' effect of too much modesty . Hence with that peevish virtue , the delight Of both our Victories was lost i' th fight ; Yet from my shame your glory does arise , My weakness proves the vigour of your eyes ; They did consume the Victim , ere it came Unto the Altar , with a purer flame : Phillis , let then this comfort ease your care , Y 'ad been more happy had you been less fair . A PROLOGUE Spoken at the opening of the DUKE' 's NEW PLAY-HOUSE . T Is not in this as in the former Age , When Wit alone suffic'd t' adorn the stage ; When things well said an Audience cou'd invite , Without the hope of such a Gaudy Sight : What with your Fathers took wou'd take with you If Wit had still the Charm of being New ; Had not enjoyment dull'd your appetite , She in her homely dress wou'd yet delight ; Such stately Theatres we need not raise , Our Old House wou'd put off our dullest Plays . You Gallants know a fresh Wench of sixteen May drive the Trade in honest Bombarine And never want good Custom , shou'd she lie ●n a back-Room , two or three stories high : But such a Beauty as has long been known , Though not decay'd , but to Perfection grown , Must , if she mean to thrive in this leud Town , Wear Points , lac'd Petticoats , and a rich Gown ; Her Lodgings too must with her Dress agree , 〈◊〉 with Damask , or with Tapestry ; H●●e China , Cabinets , and a great Glass , To ●●rike respect into an Am'rous Ass. Without the help of Stratagems and Arts , An old Acquaintance cannot touch your Hearts . M●thinks 't is hard our Authors shou'd submit So tamely to their Predecessors wit , ●●nce , I am sure , among you there are few Wou'd grant your Grand-fathers had more then you But hold ! I in this business may proceed too far , And raise a storme against our Theatre ; And then what wou'd the wise Adventures say , Who are in a much greater fright to day Then ever Poet was about his Play ? Our apprehensions none can justly blame , Money is dearer much to us then Fame : This thought on , let our Poets justifie The Reputation of their Poetry ; We are resolv'd we will not have to do With what 's between those Gentlemen and you . Be kind , and let our House have but your praise , You 'r welcome every day to damn their Plays Falling in love with a Stranger at a Play. FAIR Amarillis , on the Stage , whilst you Behold a seigned love you gave a true ; I like a Coward in the Amorous War , Came only to look on , yet got a Scar ; Fixt by your eyes , I had no power to flie , They held me whil'st you gain'd the Victory : I thought I safely might my sight content , To which the power to like ( not love ) I lent ; And if I ventur'd on some slight Discourse , It should be such as could no passion nurse : Led by the treacherous lustre of your eyes , At last I plaid too near the Precipice : Love came disguis'd in wonder and delight ▪ And I was conquer'd e're I knew him right ; Your words fell on my passion like those showers ; Which swell and multiply the rising flowers ; Like Cupid's self , a God , and yet a child , Your looks at once were awful , and yet mild : Me thoughts you blush'd , as conscious of my flame , Whil'st your strict vertue did your beauty blame : But rest secure ; y' are from the guilt as free , As Saints ador'd from our Idolatry ; And Love a Torment doe's for me prepare , Beyond your rigour in my own despair . Indifference excused . LOve , when 't is true , needs not the aid Of sighs nor tears to make it known ; And to convince the cruel'st Maid , Lovers should use their love alone : Into their very looks 't will steal ; And he that most will hide his flame Doe's in that care his pains reveal , Silence it selfe can love proclam : This Aurelia made me shun The paths that common lovers tread : Whose guilty passions are begun , Not in their Hearts , but in their Head. I cou'd not sigh , and with cross'd arms Lament your Rigour and my Fate , Nor tax your beauty with such charms As men adore , and VVomen hate : But careless live , and without Art , Knowing my love you must have spi'de , And thinking it a foolish part , To strive to shew what none can hide . The Platonick . FAIR Octavia , you are much too bla● To blow the fire , and wonder at the I did converse , 't is true , so far was mine ; But that I lov'd , and hop'd , was wholly thine ; Not hop'd , as others do , for a return , But that I might without offending burn . I thought those eyes which every hour Could not remember all the wounds they Forgotten in the crowd I wisht to lie , And of your coldness , not your anger , die ; Yet since you know I love , 't is now no time Longer to hide , let me excuse the crime ; Seeing what laws I to my passion give , Perhaps you may consent that it should live , First , it never shall a hope advance Of waiting on you , but by seeming chance , I at a distance will adore your eyes , As awful Persians do the Eastern Skies , I never will presume to think of Sex , Norwith gross thoughts my deathless love perplex I tread a pleasant path without design ; And to thy care my happiness resign , From Heaven it self thy beauty cannot be A freer gift then is my love to thee . To a Devout Young Woman . PHillis this mighty zeal asswage , You over-act your part ; The Martyrs at your tender Age , Gave Heaven but half their heart . Old men ( till past the pleasure ) ne're Declaim against the sin , 'T is early to begin to fear The Devil at fifteen . The World to Youth is too severe , And like a treacherous light , Beauty the Actions of the fair Exposes to their sight . And yet this World , as old as 't is , Is oft deceiv'd by 't too ; Wise Combinations seldom miss , Let 's try what we can do . SONG . WHEN Aurelia first became The Mistress of his heart , So milde and gentle was her reign , Thirsis in hers had part . Reserves and care he laid a side , And gave his Love the Reins ; The headlong course he now must bide , No other way remains . At first her cruelty he fear'd , But that being overcome , No second for a while appear'd , And he thought all his own : He call'd himself a happier 〈◊〉 Then ever lov'd before ; Her favours still his hopes out-ran ; What Mortal can have more ? Love smil'd at first , then looking gra●● Said , Thirsis leave to boast ; More joy then all her kindness gave , Her fickleness will cost . He ●poke , and from that fatal time , All Thirsis did , or said , Appear'd unwelcome , or a crime , To the ungrateful Maid . Then he despairing of her heart , Would fain have had his own Love answered , such a Nymph could part With nothing she had won ▪ TO CLORIS . CLoris , I cannot say , your eyes Did my unwary heart surprize , Nor will I swear it was your face , Your shape , or any nameless grace ; For you are so entirely fair , To love a part injustice were ; No drowning man can know which drop Of water his last breath did stop ; So when the stars in Heaven appear , And joyn to make the Night look clear , The Light we no one's Bounty call , But the united work of all ; He that both lips , or hands adore , Deserves them only , and no more ; But I love all , and every part , And nothing less can ease my heart . Cupid , that Lover weakly strikes , Who can express what 't is he likes . SONG . AUrelia , art thou mad To let the World in me Envy joyes I never had , And censure them in thee . Fill'd with grief for what is past , Let us at length be wise , And the Banquet boldly tast , Since we have paid the price . Love does easie souls despise , Who lose themselves for toyes , And escape for those devise , VVho tast his utmost joyes . To be thus for Trifles blam'd , Like theirs a folly is , VVho are for vain swearing damn'd , And knew no higher bliss . Love should like the year be crown'd , With sweet variety ; Hope should in the Spring be found Kind fears , and jealousie . In the Summer flower should rise , And in the Autumn Fruit ; His Spring doth else but mock our eyes , And in a scoff salute . SONG LOve still has something of the Sea , From whence his Mother rose ; No time his Slaves from doubt can free , Nor give their thoughts repose : They are becalm'd in clearest dayes , And in rough weather tost ; They wither under cold delayes , Or are in tempests lost . One while they seem to touch the Po●● , Then straight into the Main , Some angry Wind in cruel sport , Their Vessel drives again . At first , disdain and pride they fear , Which if they chance to scape , Rival● and falshood soon appear In a more dreadful shape . By such degrees to joy they come , And are so long withstood , So slowly they receive the summe , It hardly does them good . T is cruel to prolong a pain ; And to defer a Bliss , Believe me , gent●● Hermione , No less inhumane is . An hundred thousand oaths your fears , Perhaps would not remove ; And if I gaz'd a thousand years , I could no deeper love . 'T is fitter much for you to guess , Then for me to explain ; But grant , O grant that happiness Which only does remain . A Dialogue between Amintas and Celia . Celia . AMintas I am come alone According as I said ; But whither is thy Honour flown ? I fear I am betray'd : Thy looks are chang'd , and in the place Of innocent desires , Methinks I see thy eyes and face Burn with unusal fires . Amintas . See's not my Celia Nature wear One Countenance in the Spring , And yet another shape prepare , To bring the Harvest in ? Look on the Eagle , how unlike He to the Egg is found , When he prepares his Pownce to strike His Prey against the ground ; Fears might my Infant Love become ; T were want of kindness now , Should modesty my Hope benum , Or check what you allow Celia . Amintas hold , what could you worse To worst of Women do ? Ah! how could you a passion nurse , So much my Honours Foe ? Amintas . Make not an idol of a Toy , Which every breath can shake , Which all must have , or none enjoy , What course so e're we take : Whil'st Women hate , or Men are vain , You cannot be secure ; What makes my Celia then a pain So fruitless to endure ? Celia . Could I the World neglect for the e , Thy love , though dear it cost , In some unkind conceit of me , Would be untimely lost : Thou would'st thy own Example fear , And every heedless word I chance let fall beyond thy care , Would some new doubt afford . Amintas . If I am jealous , 't is because I know not where you love ; With me fulfil Loves gentle Laws , And all my fears remove . Celia . Women , like things , at second hand , Do half their value lose , But whilst all Courtship they withstand , May at their pleasure choose . Amintas . This were a fine Discourse , my Dear , If we were not alone ; But now Love whispers in my ear , There 's somewhat to be done . She said she never would forgive , He kissing , swore she should ; And told her she was mad to strive Against their mutual good . What farther past , I canot tell , But sure not much amiss ; He vow'd he lov●d her dearly well , She answered with a kiss . SONG . GEet you gone , you will undo me , If you love me , don't pursue me ; Let that inclination perish , Which I dare no longer cherish ; It does of late so fast prevail , It must go now or not at all : For should it gather farther strength , 'T would give my Honour Laws at length : With harmless thoughts I did begin , But in the Crowd Love entred in ; I knew him not he was so gay , So innocent and full of play ; At every hour , in every place , I neither saw ; nor form'd your face ; All that in Playes was finely writ , My thoughts for you , and me were fit . My Dreams at night were all of you , Such as till then I never knew : I sported thus in young desire , Chear'd with light , free from his fire : But now his Teeth and Claws are grown , Let me the Fatal Lion shun ; You found me harmless , leave me so ; For were I not , you 'd leave me too . SONG . PHillis , you have enough enjoy'd The pleasures of Disdain ; Methinks your pride shou'd now be cloy'd , And grow it self again : Open to Love your long shut Brest , And entertain it's sweetest Guest . Love that can heal the wounds he gives , And can ill usage slight ; May laugh at all that Fate contrives , Full of it's own delight , For in his Chains w' are happier far , Then Kings themselves without 'em are . Leave then to tame Philosophy The joyes of quietness ; With me into Loves Empire fly , And taste my happiness : Where even Tears and Sighs can show , Pleasures the cruel never know . MADAM , for your Commands to stay , Is the mean duty of a Wretch , Whose service you with wages pay : Lovers should at occasion catch , Not idly wait till it be brought , But with the deed o'retake your thought ; Honour and Love let them give o're , Who do their duty , and no more . AWake my Eyes , at night my thoughts pursue Your Charming Shape , & find it ever new If I my weary breast to sleep resign , In gaudy Dreams your love and beauty shine● ▪ Dreams with such Extasies Pleasures fill'd , As to those joyes they seem can only yield : Nor do they yield perhaps , wou'd you allow , Dear Flavia , that I once might know . SONG PHillis , let 's shun the common Fate , And let our love never turn to hate ; I 'le dote no longer then I can , Without being call'd a faithless Man , VVhen we begin to want Discourse , And kindness seems to tast f force , As freely as we met , we 'le part , Each one possest of their own heart . Thus whil'st grave Fools themselves undo , We 'll Game , and give off Savers too : So equally the match we 'll make , Both shall be glad to draw the stake . A smile of thine shall make my bliss ; I will enjoy thee in a kiss I 'le love and hate just where you do , And for 't no other reason know . When from this height my love does fall Wee 'l bravely scorn to love at all : If thy affection first decay , I 'le the whole blame on Nature lay . Alas what Cordial can remove , The hasty Fate of dying Love ? I 'le grieve as for a friend deceas'd And with the next as well be pleas'd : Thus we will all the World excel , In loving , and in living well . DISTICH . ALthough no Art the Fire of Love can tame 'T is oft extingiush't by an equal flame . THE painted Apples that adorn , Of yon'd fair Tree , the Airy top , And seems our dull approach to scorn , From their weak Stalk must one day drop ; And out of reach of Mortals plac't , Be the vile food of Worms at last ; Thus ends of Humane things the Pride , Born down Times ever-flowing Tide . Thy Matchless Beauty , that we all Now with such heat and passion court , Though kept from worthy Lovers , shall Confess its Tyranny but short : Then do not Love with Anger meet , Nor cruel be , to seem discreet : Shunning what Nature does intend , Things seldom meet a Nobler ●nd . SONG NOt Celia that I juster am , Or better then the rest For I would change each hour like them , Were it my interest . But I am ty'd to very thee , By every thought I have Should you my heart but once set free , I would be no more slave . All that is Woman is ador'd : In thy dear self I find : For your whole Sex can but afford . The handsome and the kind . Why then should I seek farther store , And still make love anew ? VVhen change it self can give no more , 'T is easie to be true . SONG . THirsis no more against my flame advise , But let me be in love , and be you wife ; Here end , and there begin a new address , Pursue the vulgar , easie happiness : Leave me to Amaranta , who alone Can in my sullen heart erect her Throne : know as w●ll as you 't is mean to burn , For one who to our ●lame makes no return : But you like me know not those conquering eyes , Which mock prevention by a quick surprize : And now like a hurt Deer , in vain I start , From her , that in my breast has hid the Dart. Though I can never reach her Excellence , Take somewhat in my hopeless Loves defence . Her Beauty is her not esteemed VVealth , And Graces move about her eyes by stealth ; Vertue in others , the forc't Child of Art Is but the constant temper of her Heart : All charms her Sex so often courts in vain , ( Like Indian Fruit , which our cold Earth disdain ) I● her grow wild , as in their Native Air ; And she has all perfection without care . O Loves harms she has a gentle sense , 〈◊〉 Beauty else would clogg her innocence : Like a wise Prince she rules her servants so , That neither want nor Luxury they know ; None vainly hoping what she may not give , Like humble slaves at small expence we live : And I the wretched comfort only share , To be the last whom she will bid despair . SONG . I Ask not my Celia would love me again , In its own pleasure my love is pay'd ; I 'le find such excuses for all her disdain , That shortly to frown I 'le make her afraid . Her neglect of me , of her self I 'le think care ; Her cruelty , I her strict Vertue will name ; When least kind she seems , I 'le believ her most near And call her refusal , but a Virgins Fame . Thus all that was wont heretofore to cure love , In me shall increase , and stir up the fire ; I 'le make her at last some kind remedy prove , Since all others but increase my desire . Whil'st no man enjoyes that which I court in vain , And Celia to none is kinder then me ; To 〈◊〉 Honour I 'le yield , and never complain , But dy● at her feet , if so it decree . SONG . DRink a bout till the day find us , These are pleasures that will last , L●t no foolish passion blind us Joys of Love make too much hast . Maids are long ere we can win 'um , And our Passions wast the while ; In a B●er Glass we 'l begin 'um , Let some Fool take th' other toy . Yet we will have store of good Wenches , Whom their own high bloods shall court , After two or three good Drenches , To out-do them at the Sport ; Joyning thus both Mirth and Beauty , To make up our full delight : In Wine and Love we pay our Duty To each friendly coming night . SONG . WAlking among thick shades alone , I heard a dying voice Which sighing ●aid , now she is gone I 'le make no second choice . I look't and saw it was a Swain , VVho to the flying wind , Did of some Neighbouring Nymph complain , Too fair , and too unkind . He told me how he saw her first , And with what gracious eyes , And gentle speech that flame she nurst , VVhich since she did despise . 〈◊〉 Vows she did as fast receive , 〈◊〉 could breath 'em to her ; 〈◊〉 in her Eyes proclaim'd her leave , That he alone should woo her . They feed their flocks still near one place , And at one instant me● He gazing on her lovely face , Fell deeper in the Net. She seem'd of her new Captive glad , Proud of his Bondage he ; No Lover e're a prospect had Of more felicity ▪ But the false Maid , or never lov'd , Or gave so quickly o're ; E're his was to the heighth improv'd , Her kindness was no more . Even her dissemblings she let fall , And made him plainly see , That though his heart she did enthrail , Her own was ever free . Now least his care should pity move , She shuns his very sight ; And leave him to that hopeless love , She did create in spight . Her name I could not make him tell , Though vowing him my aid ; He said he never would reveal , In Life , nor Death , the Maid . Then a wild look the Shepherd cast , And falling underneath A Beach , where he had seen her last , Resign'd his ●●most breath . SONG . AS I sat thoughtful in a shade , There I spied a loving pair , VVho closely by each other lay'd , Past their time in softer care : While she look't sadly on the ground , On her Eyes the Youth 's were fix't ; In which me thought he gladly found Jealousie with kindness mixt : But his soon dull and heavier grew , When she rais'd her drooping Head , And told him , since he was untrue , With his Faith her Love was fled . Though Jealousie be full of pain , Constant Love can suffer more : The death of yours , sayes the griev'd Swain , Shews it was but weak before . The Nymph replyed , since you can prove False to one so kind as I , Alass , how hard is it to love And how easie 't is to dy ! He answered , and did gently seise , Her fair hand he did adore ; Since you can dy with so much ease , You can love me still with more . Disguise not then your tender heart , Fear I should anothers be , Betrayes , in spight of all your Art , That you were born for only me . Like gentle Dew on wither'd leaves , Love is lost on almost all : But the fresh Flower with joy receives That which there would vainly fall : To fairest Nymphs Love adds a grace , And no kind one can be foul ; Love gives a Beauty to the ●ace , And a softness to the Soul. Since therefore fain'd inconstancy , With the world deceives you too , Henceforth my flame shall rather be Seen by all , then not by you . As by some waters purling noise , Oft repose we soonest find ; So these fond Turtles murmuring joyes , Rock't asleep my restless mind . Which I from this blest couple brought . Freed from all my duller care ; But , in i●● pl●ce , ala●s , I thought Him too happie ▪ Her too fair . SONG The Grave my envy now beget , That did my pity move ; Who , by the right of wanting Wit Are free from cares of love . Turks honour Fools , because they are By that defect secure ▪ From slavery , and toils of War , Which all the rest endure . So I , that suffer cold neglect , And wounds from Celia's Eyes , Begin extreamly to respect These Fools , that seem so wis● . T is true , they set their silly hearts On things of no delight ; To pass all day for men of parts , They pass alone the night : But Celia never breaks their rest ; Such servants she disdains ; And so the Fops are dully blest , While I endure her chains . SONG . The Ballers Life , THEY have too many hours , that employ 'em About Business , Ambition , or News , While we that know how to enjoy 'em , Wish in vain for the time which such Blockheads misuse : They that toyl in impertinent care , May strive to be often at leasure ; They cannot be worse then they are ; But we whose business is pleasure , Have never a moment to spare . With dangerous Damsels we dally , Till we come to a closer dispute ; And when we no more Forces can rally , Our kind foes give us leave to retire and recruit ; Then drooping to Bacchus we fly , Who Nobly regarding our merits , VVith succours always is nigh ; And thus reviving our spirits , We love , and we drink till we die . SONG . WHEN cold despair Would quench my passion , and end all my care , Then gentle words , and gentle sighs recall My vanishing hopes which fain would stay ; But stranger fears soon drives my hopes away ; And back again to grief I fall ▪ Her favour thus , like Cordials given in vain To dying men , does but prolong my pain . Ah Gloriana , why Like all your other Lovers may not I Have leave , alas , soon to despair and dy ? Be rather cruel , then but kind in part , Hide those soft looks , or shew as soft a heart . To Celia . Celia , the faithful servant you disown , Wou'd in obedience keep his love unknown But bright Idea's such as you inspire , We can no more conceal , than not admire ; My heart at home , in my own brest did dwell Like humble Hermit in a peaceful Cell , Unknown , and undisturb'd , it rested there , Stranger alike to hope , and to dispair : But Loves Tumultuous Train do●s now invade The sacred quiet of this hollowed shade , His fatal flame shine out to every eye , Like blazing Comets in a VVinter Sky . Fair and severe like Heav'●● you injoyn , Commands that seem● 〈…〉 your own design ; Forbidding what your 〈…〉 us to : Since if from Heavenly power you will allow , That all ●ur faculty 〈…〉 ●lain , What ●●re we will , is that the Gods ordain ; But they and y●u , ●ights without Limit have . Over y●ur Creatures , and more yours , your sl●ve : And I am one , born only to admire , To humbl● ' ere to hope , scar●e to desire , A thing whose ●liss depends upon your will ; Who cou●d be proud , you 'd deign to use him ill , How can my passion in ●it your offence , That challenges so little recomp●nce ▪ Let me but ever love , and ever be The Example of your power and cruelty ; Since so much s●orn does in your brest reside , Be more indulgent to its Mother , Pride ; Ki●● all y●u strike , and trample on their Craves , But own the Fates of your neglected slaves : When in the crowd yours undistinguish'd lyes , You give away the Triumph of your Eyes : Permi● me then to glory in my Chains , My fruitless sighs , and my unpitied pains : Perhaps obtaining this , you 'll think I find 〈◊〉 Mercy then your Anger has●d sig●●d , But Love has carefully contriv'd for me , The last perfection of Misery ▪ For to my State those hopes of Common peace , Which Death affords to every Wretch , must cease My worst of Fates attends me in my Grave , Since , dying , I must be no more your Slave . To CELIAE ALL things submit themselvs to your command , Fair Celia , when it does not Love withstand ; The power it borrowed from your eyes alone , All but himself would yield to who has none ; Were he not blind , such are the Charmes you have He 'd quit his Godhead to become your Slave . Be proud to act a Mor●a● Heroes part , And thr●w himse●f for Fame on his own Dart ? But Fate hath otherwise dispos'd of things , In different Bonds subjecting Slaves , and Kings . That Fate ( like you , resistless ) does ordain That Love alone should over Beauty Reign . By Harmony the Universe does move ; And what is Harmony , but mutual Love ? See gentle Brooks , how quietly they glide , Kissing the rugged Banks on either side , Whilst in their Christal Stream at once they show , And with them feed the Flowers which they bestow ; Though prest upon by their too rude embrace , In gentle murmurs they keep on their pace To their Lov'd Sea ; for even streams have desire Cool as they are , they feel Love's pow'rfull fires . And with such passion , that if any force Sto● or molest●um in their Am'rous course , They swell with rage , break down , and ravage ore The B●nks they kiss'd , the flowers they sed before . Who would resist an Empire so Divine , Which Universal Nature does enjoyn ? Submit then Celia er'e you be reduc'd , For Rebels vanquisht once , are vil●ly us'd . And such are you , when e're you dare obey Another passion , and your Love be●●ay . You are Loves Citadels , by you he reigns , And his proud Empire o're the World maintains ; He trusts you with his Stratage●s and Arms , His frowns , his smiles , & all his conquering charms . Beauty 's no more but the dead S●yl which Love Mannures , and does by wise Commerce improve ; Sayling by Sighes through Seas of tears , he sends , Courtship from Forraign hearts : For your own ends ▪ Cherish a Trade ; for as with Indians we Get Gold and Jewels for our Trumpery , So to each other for their useless ●oyes , Lovers afford Inestimab●e J●yes : But if you 're ●ond of Trisles , be , and starve , Your Gugaw Reputation preserve ; Live upon Modesty and empty Fame , Foregoing Sense , for a fantastick Name . SONG . As he lay in the Plain , his arm under his head And his Flock feeding by , the fond Celadon said Love's a sweet passion , why does it torment ? 〈◊〉 a bitter ( said he ) whence are Lovers content Since I suffer with pleasure , why should I complain Or g●●eve at my Fate , when I know , 't is in vain Y●t so pl●asing the pain is , so soft is the Dart , That at once it both wounds me , & tickles my heart To my self I sigh often without knowing why ; And w●ence ab●●●t from Phillis , m● thinks ● could die ; But oh ! what a pleasure still follows my pain ; When kinde Fortune do's help me to see her again . In her eyes ( the bright Stars that foretel what 's to come , By soft stealth now and then I examine my doom . I press her hand gently , look languishing down , And by passionate silence I make my love known . But oh ! how I 'm blest when so kind she do's prove , By some willing mistake to discover her love ; When in striving to hide , she reveals all her flame , And our Eyes tell each other what neither dare name SONG . HOw Charming are those pleasant pains Which the successfull Lover gains ! Oh! how the longing Spirit flies , On scorching sighes , from dying eyes ? Whose intermixing Rayes impart , Love's welcome Message to the heart . Then , how the active Pulse grow'n warm , To every sense gives the Alarm ! But oh ! the Raptures , and the Qualms , When Love unites the melting Palms ! What extasies ! what hopes and fears ! What pretty talk , and am'rous t●ars To these , a thousand Vowes succeed , And then , oh H●avens the secret deed ! When sense and Soul are bath'd in bliss , Think , dear Aminda ! think on this ; And curse those hours , we did not prove The ravishing delights of Love. SONG . GIve or foolish heart , and make hast to despair , For Daphne regards not thy vows nor thy prayer When I plead for thy passion , thy pains to prolong , She courts her Ghittar , and replies with a Song ; No more shall true L●vers thy Beanty adore , Were the Gods so sever● ▪ men would worship no more . No more will I wait like a Slave at thy dore , I 'le spend the cold nights at thy window no more : My lungs in long sighs I no more will exhale , Since thy Pride is to make me grow sullen and pale ; No more shall Amintas thy pity implore , Where the Gods so ingrate , men would worship no more . No more shall thy Frowns or free humor perswade , To court the fair Idol my Fancy has made ; When thy Saints so neglected , their follies give o're Thy Deity 's lost , and thy Beauty 's no more . No more , &c. How weak are the Vows of a Lover in pain , VVhen flatter'd by hope , or oppress'd by disdain ? No sooner my Daphne's bright Eyes I review , But all is forgot , and I vow all anew ; No more cruel Nymph I will murmure no more , Did the Gods seem so fair , men would worship them more . SONG . WIth so much ease ingrateful Swains , Your faithless vows have cur'd your pains You think by those your perjuries betray'd , That all ar● false , or else may so be made ? And ev'ry smile or pleasing word proclaimes , The coldest Nymph an off●ing to your flames . Vain S●epherd know that now 's the time To ●●ff●r for thy boasted crime : Repeated Vows with me less credit find , Then smiling Sea's , or the uncertain Wind. Deep Sighs and frequent tears as things of course , So common are that they have lost their force . Thy Passions Truth will best appear Disguis'd in doubts and guilty fear ; When all the Heart and careful Tongue conceal , The Sense disorder'd , and the Eyes reveal ; Such dark confusion makes the flame shine bright , So stars are best discern'd through shades of night . One stol'n look can better woe , Then Sighs and Tears and Vowes can doe . The falsest Hearts like empty Vessels found , But may thy feign'd ; become a real wound , That thy severer Pennance may declare How great mens crimes , and womens virtues arse . SONG . DEar Aminda , in vain you so coily refuse , What nature and Love do inspire ; That formal old way which your Mother did use , Can never confine the desire It rather adds Oyl to the fire . When the tempting delights of woing are lost , And pleasure 's a Duty become ; We both shall appear , like some dead Lovers ghost , To frighten each other from home ; And the Genial bed like a Tombe . Now , low at your feet your fond Lover will lye , And seek a new Fate in your eyes ; One Amorous smile will exalt him so high , He can all but Aminda despise ; Then change to a frown , and he dies . To love , and each other , we 'll ever be true ; But to raise our Enjoyments by Art , We 'll often fall out , and as often renew , For to wound and cure the smart , Is the pleasure which captives the Heart A PANEGYRICK sent by a Gentleman , with his Picture to his Mystriss . Go , Envied Picture . With her leave , presume To go where banish'd I must never come . Thou art not from Orinda's Eyes debar'd ; She doom'd the substance , but the shadow spar'd ; How different is my punishment to theirs . Who for their fins are sent to offer Prayers ▪ And visit Saints at some far distant shrine ? But my hard pennance is to stay from mine . Yet this may freely pass she 's pleas'd to grant My Deputy may visit my fair Saint : My Duty to my Picture I resign , The Pilgrim That , but the Devotion 's Mine . Since I 'm debarr'd the freedom to be just , To this small Envoy I my vows intrust . This dumb Sollicitour plac'd in my stead , May minde you of that cause , it cannot plead . Whene're you look on this , think on my state , And let my Offering be my Advocate . But go thou false Diss●mbler . For each Line , Which while with her kind Presence blest , was mine ; Now in her absence no Resemblance bears , To look like Me it wants my Griefs and Tears . Wanting her presence , all my looks and sence , Which were employ'd t' admire her Excellence . She gon , are grown so stupid and so dull My shadow wants a Body , I a Soul To him that Loves the gentle Fates allow A Constancy in all things but his Brow. He may look Dull , or Gay ; be Mean , or Brave , As he 's a happy or a wretched Slave , Who then Paints Me — Must draw me in my Chains , each Feature mould Just as the state I with my Conq'r●ur hold . And to describe each Line must look on You : Beauty that can make Shadows False , or True. However go , and her fair Hand salute . Thy want of Merits she will ne'●e dispute So much of Heav'n reigns in her Generous Heart She can give Honours though to undesert . If my best Hopes prove true , and she prove Kind , Thou from her Favours mayst Preserment find . She may v●uchsafe to wear thee at her Brest . Thus Worn , thus Ray●●d , thus honour'd , & thus Blest Had it but half the Love and flames I felt , I would burst the Chrystal , and the Gold would melt And at th' approach of so sublime a Bliss , Break through its Prison walls to force a Kiss But oh that Blessing 's not for souls and Sence Her Virtues cherish nought but Innocence . Dull Picture cold and senceless as thou art , Thou mayst press neare her Bos● me and her Heart . That Rape is not for Flesh and Blood design'd , Her Smile 's too great a bl●ssing for Mankind . Though thou' rt a poor ●ow Present , yet that Seat Her B●some w●l● en●t●●l thee Rich and Great . Thy cancel●● Imperfections then are ceast . The Sacred L●dging Con●e●rates the Guest . Thy Price is from my Entert●●nment given , T' is the He●ven makes the S●in●s , ●●no● they Heavn T' is thy Ex●●ted ●●●e thy Worth declares , Base Mete●●s t●us w●en 〈…〉 high ▪ ●●em Stars . From her fair Hand thy borrowed Lustre hold , She can lend value to thy worthless Gold. But if her favours can the Gift advance , How much would they the Offerers worth in hance ? I 'de tell her , ( were it not a thought I find Too large to be to breath and words confin'd ) How blest , how proud , how glorious I should be ; How Generous , how Divine , how Charming she , To make her Acts of Grace thus near of Kin , To wear this at her Breast , and Me within . A LETTER sent from a Gentleman to his Friend . DEAR Iack ! I wonder what a devil Obliges thee to be so Civil , Thus long to stay in Countrey-village , To minde thy Fathers Ploughs and Tillage , When we , in Town , for our diversion , Drink hard , sometimes , to cure a Tertian , And twenty other things , as Hector And VVench , which ( Iack ) thou mayst conjecture ; VVe want thee , 'Faith , to help us out here , VV' are damnably put to the Rout-here ; For t'other day seven Bacchanalians Fell briskly on us , they were Aliens ; And to those jolly Rites inur'd , We drunk while drink could be endur'd ; Sev'n Brimmers in a Hand went round , In which sev'n worthy Wights were drown'd Poor Shallow Ned that night lay rough , And ever since has had a Cough . Which makes Him bark like angry Puppy , 'Gainst those who such large doses sup-ye ; But wenching He do's much delight in , And is esteem'd an Arrant Knight in ; Besides , the Rogue do's know some women That are not Whores , I mean not common . To one of which , who he protested Was with all Ornaments invested . He led me — When rest from drink had lent me leisure , A Miss for wedlock ( Iack ) not pleasure . I laugh'd in sleeve to think the Youngster Imagin'd I would keep a Long-stir . With Complements as for my life , And all to yoke my self with wife ; Though as I live I still must own , Her beauty might become a Throne ; But I , like Rogue , indoctrinated , In such Intrigues devoutly prated Much modish Nonsence ; which as good hap , Or Love wou'd have it , stir'd her blood up With such delight that all our discourse Was from our eyes , where Love had 's Course . So free that kisses were as common , As those we give to naughty woman , And mingled palms had bred such heat , That all our Love came out in sweat . Of which I this took Notice — Dammee Madam , said I , your hands are Clammy . She blush'd and look'd as if displeas'd — When I to mend the matter — Laugh'd at my impudence , and this pleas'd . But I 'le be short , this my first visit , So well , on my part did solicit . That ere months end to me , a whole-age I of my Miss had better Knowledge . But now methinks I see thy Grotto Where on 's inscrib'd the antient Motto . Which us'd to me to be thy Story , Debauch'd Young men , Memento Mori . And now — That thou mayst see I make no waste on 't . I have thought fit to give th' a Tast on 't . A Memento Mori . AH ! the sad houre When friends shall loure And say , He 's breathing now his last , When thoughts of Love and Drink are past ; When Tyrant Death usurps that brain , Where little Maggot us'd to reign ; And with its damn'd unmodish Witches , Pulls out the flame of my Caprici's ; And with ill tasts that Mouth 's infecting , Which Cheats in Wine was still detecting , When ' stead of Frontigniac or Champaign , They give me juice of E La Campane ▪ And ' stead of Songs and bawdy Verses , One Hopkins's damn'd Rime rehearses ; Another , he falls on his Knees ; That , that alone is a Disease ! For ( Iack ) thou knowst I ne're could pray , Unless 't were on a Holiday ; When Organ , Voice and Violin , Wheedles our wicked thoughts from sin ; And then methinks I am in Heaven , With Bacchus drinking Brimmers seven . When Pan and Phoebus make us Musick , Without which , praying wou'd make you-sick : But without Complement or Pray'r , Which are but words , and words but Air ▪ Bacchus will take me to his Table , And seat me ' midst the jolly Rabble . A NEW SONG . OF all the brisk Dancers my Saleena for me , For I love not a woman unless she be free ; The affection that I to my Mystriss do pay , Grows weary unless she do meet me half-way : There can be no pleasure till humour do hit , Then Jumping is as good as affection in wit. No sooner I came , but she lik'd me as soon ; No sooner I ask'd but She graunted my boon . And without a preamble , a Portion or Joynter , She promis'd to meet me , where ere I appoint her , So we struck up the Match , and Embraced each other Without the consent of Father or Mother . Then away with the Lady that 's Modest and Coy Let her end be the pleasure that we do enjoy . Let her tickle her Fancy with secret delight , And refuse all the day what she longs for at night . I believe my Sallena say they are all mad To pick on dry bones while flesh may be had . The Pot Rapsodes . I Le leave the dish and hugg the Glasse , Whatere's the meat give me the sauce : Who swallows Crit , and never drinks Slike him that speaks before he thinks , Meat 's but a gross parenthesis , No essence , but in liquid bliss . Iove were a mortal were it not , Hee 's deified by the Pot ; Europa sat not on his Back , Had he not swam through Seas of Sack. I 'le mount my thoughts to Giant height I 'm Constellation in conceit . I 'le pluck down Sol , and mount his Sphere , Then sullen Daphne shall appear ; And seeing me grasp Pboebus rayes , Shall cringe and crown me with her Bayes I 'le rape the Moon ; it shall be said , Cynthia ' th chang'd the name of Maid . Her twinkling Girles shall all be ta'ne , No Virgin left to bear her train . Thus Conquering Sun , Moon and Stars , With gods themselves I 'le wager Warrs . Or if on Earth my Minde can rest , I 'le be a Monarch at the least . Our dull Plebeians shall grow quicker , Rinc●ng their muddy brains in liquor : The Miser then shall scatter Cash , For Wine shall change his Balderdash ; And sing , and drink , and sing , Till every subject turn a King. The Conquer'd Gods shall make us legs , Intreating they may sip the dregs . Thus will we tipple till the World Into Oblivion is hurl'd , And when we seel Old-Age doth come ; We 'll post into Elyzium , And there our chiefest Joy shall be To think of past Felicitie . SONG . IT is not , Chloris , your disdain Can ever cover with despair , Or in cold Ashes hide that care ; Which I have fed with so long pain , I may perhaps my Eyes refrain , And fruitless words no more impart , But yet still serve , still serve you in my heart . What though I spend my hapless days In finding Entertainments out , Careless of what I go about : Or seek my peace in skilful ways , Applying to my Eyes new Rayes Of Beauty and another flame , Unto my heart , my heart is still the same . 'T is true , that I could love no sace ▪ Inhabited by cold disdain , Taking delight in others pain . Your looks are full of native grace , Scorn there , by chance , alone has place ; And 't is my hope I may in time remove , This scorn one day , One day by endless Love. SONG . AH Chloris wou'd the Fates allow We still might love as we love now , The world has no such ●oyes in store , Fancy it self can wish no more . For nothing sure so sweet can prove , As pleasures of b●ginning Love. But Love when to his height arriv'd , Of all our Joyes is shortest liv'd ; His Morning past he sets so soon , That none can find his afternoon , And of that little time is lent , Half in unkindness is mispent . Since Face to Love so shore life gives , And Loves so tender while he lives . Let us remove mean doubts away , So to prevent his first decay ; Like Vines , no second wound , Love bears But weeps away his life in Tears . To CHLORIS . CHloris , since you my passion know , And ev'●y ●●●k my Love ●oes ●how , Sin●●●●●●●est w●ich so ●●ng did ●way , To your soft 〈…〉 gives ●●y ; A slave to all the Motions of your Will , Why would you have me pine and languish still . I know you cannot love to see The many pains that torture me , When at your feet my self I lay , You always turn your eyes away : Beauty a softness from its Nature takes , Which cannot look upon the wounds it makes ▪ Nor can your tender breast yet be From all Arrests of Passion free : No , 't is some happier Love , I fear , Has taken up the Lodgings there ▪ While like an importuning Beggar , I Turn'd out of doors , must thenceforth starve & die OC●AVIO to PORTIA . MAY the bright Portia , to whose sway So many Lovers yield each day , Not be displeas'd , if even to her Octavio dares his hopes prefer : And vows none else had e're the pow'r To make him love above an houre : 'T is you have found at once the Art , To conquer and reform his heart . Too much 't was giv'n t'inconstancy before , But now 't is so well plac'd , ●●ill change no more . Your scorn can ne're put ●ut ●hat Fire , VVhich your more pow●●●ul Eyes ●●spire . Be as dis●ainfu● 〈◊〉 will , He 'le s●ff●r a●●●n●●ove you still . Yet do not you im●erious grow , Because his humble flames you kn●w : Nor o're your ●lave with rigour ●eign , Because he cannot break his chain . Like Kings , who never treat their Subjects well When they are once assur'd they can't rebel . He hopes like all great Beautyes you , Take pleasures only to subdue , All hearts to love , but won't think fit , To torture Slaves that bow to it ; So some brave Hero seeks to kill , By all the wayes of force and skill . While his pro●d foe maintains the strife , But gives him , when he yield , his life . Hearts that are hardn'd against threat●ing steel , The gentle touches of compassion feel . SONG . WHen as my Thirsis first did view me , With languishing and charming eyes , With many a sigh he seem'd to wooe me . And did my foolish heart surprize , With those false looks that are in fashion , But I my folly loath to own , striving to hide that rising passion ; Care to concea● it made it known For the brisk youth did so●● discover A mighty tumult in my face . All the disorder of a Lover , When Passions combate in that place ; Emboldn'd then he streight drew nigh me With gentle sweetness ●n ●is eyes ▪ Saying , fair Celia , do not fly me , Or my poor humble heart ●espise . A Tribute which I ne're did pay ●et , To any Nymph upon the Plain , And should you cruelly betray 〈◊〉 But oh ! that caution was in vain ; Yet said I love will soon be flying , VVhich in a moment has its Birth , As the too early Flow'rs are dying , The very minute they come forth . My Love said he from Fate arising , I can no more quit then avoid : But Love , produc'd from flow advising , By the same means might be destroy'd . That which I have for that bright face , is A sympathy , not lazie love . The steel the Loadstone thus embraces , And of it self will ne're remove . Then many am'rous Vows he uses , To vouch his constancy and truth . Hard is that heart that once refuses To love and trust the lovely Youth . He playes then with my dangling Tresses , And humbly ga●e on my face . Kisses my hand , my breast he presses , Ala's , with too bewitching Grace . My blood grew ●hill , my heart too panting , Like the gen●●● Murm●ring D●ve● ; The skillful Youth no ●●●●ing wanting That fatal minute soon improves . He gently then lays me down by him , And many winning O●ths he swore , Asking what I ●ou'd not deny him , He had subdu'd me so before . Ah then he rob'd me of that treasure , Which ne're can be rei●●r'd again . But Oh the pain , yet Oh the pleasure , And Oh that both might still remain . But soon alas from me h● parted , And now in vain I make my moan , Since m● he sa●●ly has d●s●rt●d ; I 'le sigh , and pine and dy● alone . SONG . THough Damon is haughty ●and seems to despise , The f●tte●s he lately has w●rne , Yet ●e k●●ws in ●is soul that his Phillis's eyes ; Were she willing coul● conquer his scorn Then let not presumption so blind thee fond Damon To think that this ●umour shall e're bring my flame on If he had been humble , obliging and free , Perhaps I had pity'd his pain , B●t sin●● pride and Inconstancy in him I see ; He shall know H' has but lengthen'd his chayn . For now I perceive what the Fop does endeavour My Arts shall detain him my Captive for ever . SONG . If thou boast an Empire Cupid , Why do'st thou permit thy State ; Cowardlike as blind as stupid ; To be rul'd by a greater Fate . Fate in thy affairs seems rectour , Lovers spite of thee may fall , Lasse poor child th' ar● no Proctor ; Fate is Governour of a●l . Neither have thine Arrows power , Since it was my Celia's eyes , Blasted me thou canst not bow her , Save with me she sympathize . Nor e're was that yet procured By thine , but b' a nat'ral Art. Nature 't was that first inured , Joyning bodies , well as hearts . SONG to LUCINDA . LUcinda , since we have confess'd To each other , each others love , Why should our flames be still suppress'd , And not to Action move . Both kindled at the first kind Enterview , And both with equal care and vigour grew . Mine scorch'd and scorch'd , nor durst your passion say , You lov'd till forc'd they did themselves betray . Now let us study to improve Our Passions with that fire , That may not quickly waste our love , But still preserve desir● . And silently enjoy at such a rate , That distance may our Fancies recreate ; Dealing our Loves with that equalitie , As born together , so their Deaths may be . Lucinda shall but whisper'd be , Us'd as the Names of Saints ; And call'd on as a Deity To satisfie Complaints . No other wishes dare attempt my breast , Now 't is with bright Lucinda so possess'd . She fills my thoughts with glory , then I 'le cry Lucinda loves ; Lucinda ! so do I. To his Mistriss . A Flame as sacred as the vowes of those , Who to devotion do their lifes dispose . My love has nourish'd and to you , It is an off'ring due . And with you let it burne , Though I may hope but small return ; Yet may my doubtfull thoughts have rest , To know 't is harbour'd in your breast . Where is but kindly cherish'd I 'le not fear , But it may kindle the like passion there . A flame it is as chast as your own thought , Free from the vices Nature would have taught ; Refin'd by virtues that attend , A Lover and a friend . With freedom then you may receive , What with such Innocence I give ; And if some heat from you't procures , Ther 's still no fear of hurting yours . For in that Love no poyson is conv●y'd , Where friendship is the chief ingredient m●●● . My love thus lodg'd I could contented live , But when I think how true how much I give ; Your gen'rous mind bids me expect , From you the like effect . Then fear not boldly to bestow , Your love where you in reason owe. For that and Justice too will say , It is a debt you ought to pay ; But if your inclination disapprove , My resolution shall be still to love . SONG . FAith now my dear I must prevaile , I know you 'l not deny me , For if I wait another gale ; This fortune then may fly me . Come let 's enjoy , I am resolv'd , There is no danger near us Safe as in Rocks w' are here involv'd , Where none can ' spy nor hear us . The pleasant murmures of the Trees , Our gentle whispers smother , And since no Sun nor Moon can see , Wee 'l wink at one another . Silent and vigorous wee 'l be , As Birds in our imbraces , I neither will nor shalt thou see The Language of our faces . Our souls alone shall have discourse , Till ev'ry sence is stupid ; And w' are inspir'd by a fresh force To propagate a Cupid . To FLORIDA . FLorida , why wilt thou marry , Now the World is grown so wide , Liberty wou'd have you tarry , Till Convenience make you Bride . Husband is a word sounds dully , Fit for gravity and Age , Dear , my life , my joy , my bully , Are the words that more ingag● . I 'de not have thee out of fashion , Whilst thy youth and beauty holds , But to most have equal passion ; And to some stark kind and cold . Humour in the greatest lovers , Is allow'd t' admit of change , Since the wise do shoot at revers ; 'T is no crime for us to range , The distracted LOVER to the Ayre of Awake all ye dead . I M'e now in love , but Oh but Oh , How severe are th' effects th●t from thence do fl●w . Diseases are trifles to their cruelty , Those create but a pain , these misery ; Distracted souls so made by Love , Are blest they cannot disapprove . The harsh practices that fate on them do's throw , Whom lov's little God by his power brings to woe ; Then cruel she , or come or come , And allot me thy breast , or a tomb , a tomb . 'T is nobler far to kill , to kill A condemn'd stave then to keep him still ; With his breast full of horrour expecting then , Ev'ry moment a death , yet knows not when . Conquest delay'd in none is brave , When they may give a suddain gr●ve . To those that are cloath'd in black despair , Delayes like some poisons corrosive are , Then once more send thine eye , theine eye , That will sure●y destroy , and I dye I dye . To LAURINDA . LAurinda , thou canst shew alone More Beauty then was ever shown , I 've rov'd and find no smiles , T' express thine eyes by , but thine eyes Angels we see not but by thee , We may conclude such creatures be . Where then we do so much perf●ction find , We know that body must have such a mind ; Thou needst no Arts nor Artifice , For Ornaments but this is this . And mayst thy self , thy self prefer In Church , or Court , or Theatre , VVhere needfull Females shew their tricks As nature too had Hereticks ; And this with care so plainly have devis'd As if 't were glorious to be so disguis'd . Happy Laurinda where the gall Of cancker'd t●ngues can never fall , Whose thoughts are fed with V●stall fire , And whom both Sexes do admire . 'T is you I love beyond degree , Yet allmost think it blasphemie But if a Deity can to Love incline , Kill me to say the blessing 's mine . Prologue to the Impertinents acted at the Middle TEMPLE . THe Author of this Play comes to receive , His final doom which only you can give : Th' ill-judging Town has favour'd what he writ Yet what so er'e they do it is not fit , 'T should pass for current 'till you licence it . Though they their favour to him did allow , He may be found a Malefactor now ; But to your Judgment he must humbly bow . He by your common law condemn'd must be , But for releif flies to your Chauncerie . He fears your Justice when you know that he , A Member of this learn'd Society ▪ Lest fruitfull Law for barren Poetry , Yet ( Fathers of the Law ) if ye will please , T' unbend your cars , & give your minds some ease From all the weights which they have born ere while , He hopes the mirth in 's Play may gain your smile . And he 's not so far gone but that he may , Plead once before you in a nobler way . Prologue at Oxford . YOur most obliging kindness one year shown A second time has brought your Servants down From the tumultuous and unlearned Town , Where Pride and Ignorance in a full cry , Dare all the Pow'rs of Art and Wit defie : To the calme dwellings of the Muses here , Where all things soft and gentle do appear . When sacred Learning flourishes in peace , And without noyse each moment does encrease ; Hither we come and with such pleasure too , As we can never hope t' afford to you . And yet with this we cannot be content , But you must pay for our divertisement : A Lover thus to 's Mistriss does impart , The treasure of his purse as well as heart ; For that of which She has an equal part , VVhat pleasure is it to give you delight , When most of you are fit to Judge and write . Here none t' appear fantastick take great pains , Or under huge white Perr'wigs have no brains ; No blustring Bullyes come in here half drunk , For Chyna Oranges and love to Punck ; To fly at Vizard Masks talk Nonsence loud , And with their noise out-vye Bear-baiting Croud Poets should be above such Judges rais'd , To be condemn'd by such is to be prais'd : But to his Nursery of Art and Wit , Our Poets humbly all their Pens submit . To you what ' ere they can invent is due , Since all that 's Wit and Art is taught by you . Thus Inland Brooks into the Ocean flow , To which their streams & f●●n●●i●s too they ow But Po●ts must their empti●ess ●e ●●●e , Who can but give what they receiv'd before . PROLOGUE to t●e Ordi●ary . FR●m you g●ve men of ●●●●n●●s and ●f trade W●o w●re f●r indust●y , n●● pl●●sure , made We ●eldom do imp●o●e , or h●pe for aid . F●r w● bu● rarely ●re ●bligd by y●u , Y●u com● but when y●v● no●●i●g else to do ; ● fi●es , our Wit to yo● n●e●●s no ●x●us● , For you all Wit do l●ke a Mystri●s u●e ; A thing you sel●●m ●●e , w●ile some are cloy'd With Wit , as with a Wise too o●t enj●y'd ; Nay , you will think that Wit which is ●o●●● , A Quibble , or a little Punn takes 〈◊〉 ; 〈◊〉 ●llness does men for business prepare , Whi● Wit delights in ease , and hates all care But to the young brisk men who think it fit , To spend no Afternoon but in the Pit , Whether we will or no we must submit . Some come with lusty Burgundy half-drunk , T'eat China Oranges , make love to Punk ; And briskly mount a bench when th' Act is done , And comb their much-lov'd Pe●iwigs to the tune , And can sit out a Play of three houres long , Minding no part of 't but the Dance or Song ; These are our trusty friends , but some there are , Most bloody Judges , who no Poets spare ; But I have heard som● injur'd Authors say , That th●se m●st parlou●●e●●●●ers of a ●ay , With littl● Wit which they so much employ , Which by R●fl●ction only th●y enjoy , Would even those from whom they took 't destroy . So does the fam'd E●lightne● of the Night , Ecli●se the Sun , from whom sh 'ad all her light ; And these Mock 〈◊〉 hiss and whistle loud , And with their noise cut-vie Bear-baiti●g Croud . But Ladies , you are sweet , and soft , and fair , And will the Poet and the Actors spare ; But b●sy men and Sparks are welcome now , T●e little Miss●s and great Ladies too , You altogether make a Noble S●ow . Y 'ave paid fo●'t , and whatever Poets say , Think or say what you please of this our Pl●y . EPILOGUE to the Ordinary . OUR PROLOGUE huff● , but we are ●umo●●●ow , An●●●ar 〈◊〉 sto●me which hangs upon eac● brow , S●in S●a fig●ts at first s●me have been b●ld , VVho in the h●at took sh●lter in the H●ld : But now the danger of your ●hunder's nigh , VVe have no refuge , but to m●rcy fl●● : We yield our s●lves , an● you so gen'rous ●e , S●bmitti●g foes , th●u●h 〈◊〉 s● great , you 'l s●are . Gal●ants if y' are off●nded at our P●ay , And think w●have c●urs●●y treated ●●u to day : Think what a●f mi●e there is now of Wit , And that w● b●ing the b●st that we ca● g●t ; We are poor Farmers , and make homely ●are , Whi●e ●●r ●i●h La●dlor●s may great Fea●ts prepare ; Bu● their R●venu● n●w is almost sp●nt , A●d you wi●● little wit must b● c●●t●n● : N●nsenc● sh●l● wear th● g●y disg●i●● o● R●ime , And though not understo●● , sh●●l swee●ly clime : N●w emp●y shows must want ●f se●●● supply , A●g●ls shall dance , and 〈◊〉 VVitches fly : You sh●ll have 〈◊〉 , t●●n●e & ●ig●t●ing too An● Co●jar ●s raise s●●●its to your view : The upp●r G●ll'ri● sh●●● have t●eir desire , Who love a Fool , a D●vi● an● a ●●ia : Damn'd Plays shal● b● a 〈◊〉 wit● m●g●ty s●en●s And Fustian shall b● sp●k● i●●●ge Machines : And we w●●●●urling ●●r●ams 〈…〉 w●rks show And you m●y l●ve t● 〈◊〉 it 〈…〉 , S● Poets s●ve th●ir wit 〈…〉 . This all our S●r●blers can 〈◊〉 wi●h ●as● . T●●kle the fools , though not the Witty please ▪ I● you ●xp●ct ●●ue Com●dy agen , That repres●nts not Monst●rs , but shows men ; Your exp●ctation will be cross'd , we fear , For we have little hope to see such here . A Prologue spoken at Court to the Emperess of Morocco . THE mighty Army now assembl●d here , Of dreadful Criticks w●ll might make us fear ; But , Sir , to your Protection we retire ; No Fo● ( we know ) will at your quarters fire , Though n●'re so bad , if you but grace our P●ay , VVe and our Poet shall be safe to day : Y●ur Royal stamp can make all money pass , And none da●es c●ip your Coin , tho' but of brass : Our valiant Hero's , like their Ladies , quake , And they ( poor souls ) all wish they now could take Morocco's deepest black their Cheeks to hide , That wh●n th●y blush , it might by none be spy'd . Like bashful Brides call'd to the Marriage bed , They can't go back , and dare not forward ●read ; But you , great Sir , may soon remove their f●are , And ease those hearts where you 've the greatest share . Y●u with a smile can troubled minds assure , As with a Touch you sickly b●●i●s cure . To the Audience . Now Gallants , somthing should to you be said : But B●auty better much then Wi● can plead : None will this fair Petitioner withstand ; I can but only beg ; She , may command . Spoken by the Lady Elizabeth Howard . As tiu'rous ●●v●rites that have slighted long A Fa●tion , which at last they finde grow strong , Think with themselvs how they b●time may close And make a Peac● with th● i●●revailing foes : So ou● young Ladies almost dead with fear , Reflection ●●l they m●y have anger'd here : And with a fl●tt● ri●g Prologu● would ●xcuse T●● 〈◊〉 rigour which th●y once did use . This humbl● Erran● I am sent to do● , Bu● it woul● ill b●c●me 〈◊〉 to woo , No● shall we need ●t sure to such as you . M●thinks you should not r●il at us to day , And you are too gallant to minde the Play. But though you do , we hope at last each scene VVhere we shall act , will tak● , tho' ne're so mean. In a fine ●adies Mouth all fine will show , As wi●●s blow sweet when they through Gardens blow . Use w●ll the Power we put into your hands , And know , long at i●s height no Empire stands . You were at ours , we at your mercy now , And must like Vassals to our Vassals bow ; Y●t my brisk Monsieurs , be not too severe , Y 'ave but a little time to dominere , And every Jest of yours may cost you dear : 'T is b●t ●ik Royal slav●s , this night you reign : The Play once done , we shall be crown'd again , And you , poor Captives , must resume your ●hain . Then do your w●rst , we will the shock abide , You can at most but a f●ign'd Love deride , VVhen in good earnest you shall come to woo , It will be then our tu●n to laugh at you . Another Prologue spoke at Court to the Emperess of Morocco . WIT has of late took up a trickt ' appear , Unmannerly , or at the b●st severe : And Poets share the Fa●e by which we fall , VVhen kindly we attempt to please you all . 'T is hard , your scorn should against such prevail , Whose ends are to divert you , tho' they fail . You Men would think it an ill-natur'd Jest , Should we laugh at you when you did y●ur best . Then rail not here , though you see reason for 't If Wit can finde it self no better sport . Wit is a very foolish thing at Court. VVit 's bus'ness is to please , and not to fright , 'T is no Wit to be always in the right , You 'l find 〈◊〉 none , who dare be so to night . Few so ill-bred will venture to a Play , To spy out faults in what we VVomen say For us no matter what we speak , but how , How kindly can we say — I hate you now . And for the men , if you 'l laugh at 'em , do ; T●●y minde themselves so much , they 'll ne're minde you — But why do I descend to lose a Prayer On those small Saints in Wit , the God sits there . T● you ( Great Sir ) my Message hither tends , From Youth and Beauty your Allies and Friends . See my ●redentials written in my Face , They challenge your Protection in this place , And hither come with such a force of charmes , As may give Check even to your prosp'rous ●rmes : Millions of Cupids hovering in the Rear , Like Eagles following , fatal Troops appear . All waiting for the slaughter , which draws nigh . Of those bold Gazers , who this Night must dy . Nor can you ●ca●e our soft Cap●ivitie , From which old Age alone must s●t you free . Then tremble at the fatal Cons●qun● — Si●ce , 't is well known for y●ur own part ( Great Prince ) 'Gainst us you still have ma●e a weak d●fenc● — Be gen'rous , and wise , and take our part ; Remember we have eyes , and you a heart . Else you may find , too late , that we are things Born to kill vassals , and to conquer Kings . But oh ! to what vain Conquest I pretend , VVhilst Love is our Commander , and your Friend . Our victory your Empire more assures , For Love will ever make the Triumph yours . A SONG . FOrgive me Jove ! Or , if there be a kinder god above , Forgive a Reb●l to the Power of Love : H●●r me ( kind Cupid ) and acc●pt my Vow , Min● , who ●e voutly at t●y Altar Bow ; O! hear me now : Dorinda ●ear , and w●at Ive done amiss Pardon , and seal that pardon with a Kiss . Stay ! methinks the melting Saint , Kindly Ecchoes my complaint ; Look ! I fancy I descry Pi●y dropping from her eye ; Ha●k ! she says Philander live , All thy Errours I forgive : And now , ah me ! to repent I begin , That against so much goodness I ever should Sin ; But never again , oh ! never will I , Offend my Dorinda , for sooner I 'le dye . SONG . AH Cruel Eyes ! that first enflam'd My poor resistless heart ; That , when I would my thoughts have blam'd they still encrease the smart : What pow , r above Creates such Love. To languish with desire ▪ May some disdain Encrease my pain , Or may the flame expire . And yet I die to think how soon My wishes may return , If slighted , and my hopes once gone , I must in silence mourn : T●en Tyrannels D● but express , The Mystry of your pow'r , ' ●●s as s●on said . You 'll l●ve and wed As studying for'● an hour . I yield to Fate , though your fair eyes Have made the pow'r your own ; ' Twàs they did first my heart surprize , Dear Nymph 't was they alone : For honour's sake , Your h●art awake , And let your pity move : 〈◊〉 in ●●spair O● on so fair , I bid adi●u to Love. A SONG . NAy ! let me alone , protest I 'le be gone ▪ 'T is a folly to think I●le be subject to One : Never hope to Co●sine A Young Gallant to dine , Like a Sch●lar of Oxford , on naught but the Loyn , For , after Enjoyment , our Bellies are full ; And the same dish again makes the Appetite dull . By your Wantoning Art ; Of a Sigh , and a Start , You endeavour , in vain , to inveigle my heart ? For the Pretty Disguise Of your Languishing Eyes , Will never prevail with my Sinews to rise : And 't was never the Mode , in an Amorous 〈◊〉 When a Lover has din'd , to perswade him to 〈◊〉 Faith Betty the Jest Is almost at the best , T is only variety makes up the Feast ? For when we 've enjoy'd ; And with pleasures are cloy'd ? The vows , that we made to love , ever are 〈◊〉 And you know , pretty Nymph , it was ever 〈◊〉 That a meal should be made of a Relishing 〈◊〉 A SONG in the Dutch-Love● . AMintas bid me to a Grove , Where all the Trees did shade us , The Sun it self , though it had strove , It could not have betray'd us , The place , secur'd from Humane eyes , No other fear allows , But , when the Wind doth gently rise , To kiss the yeilding boughs . ( 2 ) Down there we sat upon the Mosse , And did begin to play , A thousand wanton tricks to passe The heat of all the day ; A many kisses he did give , And I return'd the same , Which made me willing to receive . That which I dare not name . ( 3 ) His Charming Eyes no Aid requir'd To tell their am'rous tale ; On her that was already fir'd , 'T was easie to prevail : He did but kisse , and clasp me round , Whilst those his thoughts expressd , And laid me sof●ly on the ground , Oh● who can guess the rest . SONG . O The time that is past , When she held me so fast , And declar'd that her honour no longer could last , When no light , but her languishing eyes did appear To prevent all excuses of blush●s and fear . When she sigh'd and unlac'd , With such trembling and haste , As if she had long'd to be closer embrac'd , My Lips the sweet pleasure of K●sses enjoy'd , While my hand was in search of hid treasure employ'd . My heart set on fire VVith the flames of desire , 〈◊〉 pursu'd what she seem'd to require ; 〈◊〉 she cry'd , for pity sake , change your ill mind , 〈◊〉 Amintas be civil , or I 'le be unkind , Dear Amintas , she cries , Then casts down her eyes , 〈◊〉 in Kisses she gives , what in words she denies , 〈…〉 of my Conquest I purpos'd to stay 〈…〉 free consent had more sweetned the prey . But too late I begun For her passion was done ; 〈◊〉 Amintas , she cries , I will never be won : 〈…〉 , and your Courtship , no pity can move , 〈…〉 've slighted the Critical minute of Love. Song on the London Ladies ( 1 ) TIme was , thou must dwindle thy mony and time And , the dearest of all thy vigour , and prime To Court a coy Mistris , that long'd for 't as much As thou couldst desire to give her a touch : But now the rate 's known ; the best will turn up Foe a Guiny , a Pullet , and t'other old cup : A World 't is of pleasure , one Necklace of Pearl , Will conjure the richest , or modestest Girl . ( 2 ) All Trade is for gain , all Commodities sold , Fear not ; for thy coyn thou mayst justly be bold . A pox on fine words ; the contemplative fool Talks of Love , and of flame ; an oh ! what mis-rule , These keep in his heart : now a sigh , then a groan ; And her very jeca's sufficient alone To fill him with raptures , sweet dreams , and what not ! VVhen alas ! all the while her flames are as hot . ( 3 ) In company with her , each glance drops a Charm , And she gives him her hand , to keep him still warm ; For this is the man she designes her lewd life , To cloak with the serious name of a Wife : To the modest all distance , with those that are free She can tickle , and kiss , and kinder yet be : Adieu to fond Courtship , all Arguments lie , In the briskest assault , when the pockets let flie . ( 4 ) Love is banish'd the world , and vertue is gone To some private recess , to lament all alone ; For now she grows barren , and none of her race Can be found either with , or without a good face : To the Ma● , to the Park , to the Pit , or the Box ; Where you will , you can't miss : there 's meat for the Cocks . And thus will it be , for old Eve at the first , And her Daughters e're since have made all Men accurst . FINIS .