TO HISnow G
Mistress in England.
HILE for her Strephon faithful Calia fighs, Beneath the British Suns and fofter Skys: And tho the feels the milder genial Ray, Repines at Albion's more indulgent Day: Think not, dear Nymph, thefe dreary Climes remove My wonted Vows, or quench the Fires of Love; in J By thine awak'd, my Correfpondent Care, Pays Sigh for Sigly, and tells out Tear for Tear, af
Tho' the coarfe Heav'n, and melancholy Clime
Benum'd the fhackled Feet of every Rhime;
Tho' Phabus, GoD of Wit and Heat retires,
Withdraws his own, and damps the Poet's Fires;
Yet no Degrees my ardent Love controul,
Which burns ev'n here, and glows beneath the Polé.
The Artick Circle fhall to Strephon prove
Only th' Equator to his boundless Love:
The Vows I make, tho' now congeal'd in Air,
When the warm Spring brings back the youthful Year,
Diffolv'd to Sound, the Salvages fhalt hear.
Sometimes to footh the raging Pains of Love,
From Map to Map with endless Care I roveit
O'er Realms unknown, and various Lands I fly,
O'er Worlds and Seas now travel with my Eye:
From Pole to Pole I range this fpacious All,
Then fingle Albion's Ifland from the Ball,
Albion to ev'ry Region I prefer,
She the World's nobleft Pride, and You of Her.
Whene'er your Image ftrikes upon my Soul,
It thaws the Clime, and melts the frozen Pole:
The fancy'd Lightnings of your Heav'nly Eyes:
Unbind the Rigour of the Northern Skys
Tho' the pale Sun fheds here a filky Ray,
And rules in diftant Skys the feeble Day, 2
Tho' Icy Mountains rife confus'dly bright,
And Chains of daz'ling Hills fatigue the Sight;
Tho' Rocks in hoary Piles around me ftand,
Rife white, and glitter oler the fhining Land;
Yet full of Thee, o'er boundless Plains I go,
Bold and impaffive to the driving Snow.
I fee, fecure the Clime the Seas retain,
And yoke the Ocean in a wintry Chain :
O'er the green Surge my boundless View 1 caft,
And fafely walk along the dreary Waft;
Led by thofe Eyes, my Stars, the Main explore,
And Billows never plough'd by Ships before.
While those bright Images my Cares beguile,
The Hills grow warm, and the black Defarts fmile.
But, if to crown my Hopes with full Delight,
My Calia's Form might blefs my ravish'd Sight;
I would not envy thofe rich Realms that lye,
Beneath th' Influence of a fofter Sky;
I'd revel there, tho' circled round with Froft,
And find a Paradife on Laplan's dreary Coast,
On a beautiful BOY, born Blind of one Eye, his Mother being the fame.
N half-blind Boy, born of an half-blind Mother,
Wouldst thou, Fair Boy, lend her thy Eye, fhe'll prove The Queen of Beauty, thou the God of Love,
SON G
Made for the Entertainment of Her
Princess of WALES,
As She paffed at the HAGUE.
HILE all in Thee a Heav'n of Charms adore,
Dear deftin'd Bleffings of an envy'd Shore,
Seas proud to waft Thee fwell, and murm'ring near,
Chide wanton Winds that part the Royal Pair.
Till Gales aufpicious Breath from Eastern Skys,
Fond as your Vows and grateful as your Sighs,
Bright PRINCE'ss near thy Britain's watry
To lull thy Cares admit our British Sounds,
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