Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds:
And now his woven Girts he breaks asunder,
The bearing Earth with his hard Hoof he wounds,
Whofe hollow Wombrefounds like Heaven's Thun-
The Iron Bit he crushes 'tween his Teeth, (der :
Controlling what he was controlled with.
His Ears up prick't his braided hanging Mane,
Upon his compaft Creft now ftands an end,
His Noftrils drink the Air, and forth again
As from a Furnace Vapours doth he lend:
His Eye, which fcornfully glifters like Fire,
Shews his hot Courage, and his high Defire.
Sometimes he trots as if he told the steps,
With gentle Majefty, and modest Pride:
Anon he rears upright, curvets and leaps;
As who should fay, Lo, thus my ftrength is tried.
And thus I do to captivate the Eye
Of the fair Breeder that is ftanding by,
What recketh he his Rider's angry stur,
His flatt'ring Holla, or his Stand, I fay?
What cares he now for Curb, or pricking Spur,
For rich Caparifons, or Trappings gay?
He fees his Love, and nothing else he fees:
For nothing elfe with his proud fight agrees.
Look when a Painter would furpass the Life,
In limning out a well-proportion'd Steed,
His Art with Nature's Workmanship at ftrife,
As if the dead the living fhould exceed:
So did his Horfe excel a common one,
In Shape, in Courage, Colour, Pace, and Bone.
Round hooft, fhort jointed, Fetlocks fhag and long,
Broad Breaft, full Eyes,fmall Head,and Noftril wide,
High Creft,fhort Ears,ftrait Legs,and paffing ftrong,
Thin Mane,thick Tail,broad Buttock,tender Hide:
Look what a Horse should have he did not lack,
Save a proud Rider on fo proud a Back.
Sometimes he fcuds far off, and there he stares;
Anon he starts at stirring of a Feather:
To bid the Wind abase he now prepares,
And where he run, or fly, they know not whether.
For thro his Main and Tail the high Wind fings,
Fanning the Hairs,who have like feather'd Wings.
He looks upon his Love, and neighs unto her:
She answers him, as if fhe knew his Mind:
Being proud, as Females are, to fee him woo her,
She puts on outward ftrangeness, feems unkind,
Spurns at his Love, and fcorns the Heat he feels,
Beating his kind Embracements with his Heels.
Then, like a melancholy Male-content,
He vails his Tail: that, like a falling Plume,
Cool fhadow to his melting Buttocks lent,
He stamps, and bites the poor Flies in his Fume.
His Love perceiving how he is inrag'd,
Grew kinder, and his Fury was afwag'd.
His tefty Master goes about to take him,
When lo, the unbackt Breeder, full of fear,
Jealous of catching, fwiftly doth forfake him,
With her the Horfe, and left Adonis there;
As they were mad,unto the Wood they hie them,
Out-ftripping Crows that strive to over-fly them.
All fwoln with chafing, down Adonis fits,
Banning his boiftrous and unruly Beast:
And now the happy Seafon once more fits,
That Love-fick Love by pleading may be bleft.
For Lovers fay, the Heart hath treble wrong,
When it is bar'd the Aidance of the Tongue.
An Oven that is ftopt, or River staid,
Burneth more hotly, fwelleth with more rage:
So of concealed Sorrow may be said;
Free vent of Words Love's Fire doth affwage:
But when the Heart's Attorney once is mute,
The Client breaks, as defperate in his Suit.
He fees her coming, and begins to glow,
E'en as a dying Coal revives with Wind,
And with his Bonnet hides his angry Brow,
Looks on the dull Earth with difturbed Mind;
Taking no notice that she is fo nigh,
For all afcance he holds her in his Eye.
O what a fight it was wiftly to view,
How the came ftealing to the wayward Boy!
To note the fighting Conflict of her hiew,
How white and red each other did destroy:
But now her Cheek was pale, and by and by
It flasht forth Fire, as Lightning from the Sky.
Now was fhe just before him as he fat,
And like a lowly Lover down she kneels;
With one fair Hand fhe heaveth up his Hat,
Her other tender Hand his fair Cheeks feels:
His tender Cheeks receive her foft hands print,
As apt as new-fallen Snow takes any dint.
O what a war of Looks was then between them? Her Eyes Petitioners to his Eyes fuing;
His Eyes faw her Eyes, as they had not feen them;
Her Eyes woo'd ftill,his Eyes difdain'd the Wooing:
And all this dumb play had his Acts made plain,
With Tears which,Chorus like, her Eyes did rain.
Full gently now she takes him by the Hand,
A Lilly prifon'd in a Jayl of Snow,
Or Ivory in an Alabaster Band,
So white a Friend ingirts fo white a Foe:
This beauteous Combat, wilful and unwilling,
Shew'd like to filver Doves that fit a billing.
Once more the Engine of her Thoughts began:
O fairest mover on this mortal Round,
Would thou wert as I am, and la Man,
My Heart all whole as thine,thy Heart my Wound:
For one sweet Look my help I would affure thee,
Tho nothing but my Body's Bane would cure thee.
Give me my Hand (faith he) why doft thou feel it?
Give me my Heart (faith fhe) and thou shalt have it.
O give it me, left thy hard Heart do steel it ;
And being steel'd, foft Sighs can never grave it:
Then Love's deep Groans I never fhall regard,
Becaufe Adonis Heart hath made mine hard.
For fhame, he crys, let go, and let me go,
My days delight is paft, my Horfe is gone,
And 'tis your Fault I am bereft him fo,
I pray you hence, and leave me here alone.
For all my Mind, my Thought, my bufy Care,
Is how to get my Palfrey from the Mare.
Thus fhe replys: Thy Palfrey, as he should,
Welcomes the warm Approach of sweet Defire:
Affection is a Coal that must be cool'd;
Elfe, fuffer'd, it will fet the Heart on fire.
The Sea hath Bounds, but deep Defire hath none,
Therefore no marvel tho thy Horse be gone.
How like a Jade he stood, ty'd to a Tree,
Servilely master'd with a leathern Rein?
But when he saw his Love, his Youth's fair Fee,
He held fuch petty Bondage in difdain,
Throwing the bafe Thong from his bendingCreft,
Enfranchising his Mouth, his Back, his Breaft.
Who fees his true Love in her naked Bed,
Teaching the Sheets a whiter hiew than White;
But when his glutton Eye fo full hath fed,
His other Agents aim at like Delight:
Who is fo faint that dare not be fo bold,
To touch the Fire, the Weather being cold?
Let me excufe thy Courfer, gentle Boy;
And learn of him, I heartily befeech thee,
To take Advantage on prefented Joy;
Tho I were dumb, yet his Proceedings teach thee.
Olearn to love, the Leffon is but plain,
And once made perfect, never loft again.
I know not Love (quoth he) nor will I know it,
Unless it be a Boar, and then I chafe it.
'Tis much to borrow, and I will not owe it;
My Love to love, is Love but to difgrace it.
For I have heard it is a Life in Death,
That laughs,and weeps,and all but with a breath
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