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To the Reverend Mr. Benoni Rowe.
way of the multitude.
To the Reverend Mr. John Howe, 1704,
* Ithuriel is the name of an angel in Milton's Paradise Loft.
I feel I feel th' attractive force
20 But strike one dolcful sound 'Twould be enıploy'd to mourn our souls, Sculs that were fram’d of sprightly fires In floods of folly drown'd. Souls made of glory seek a brutal joy;
Bid us renounce this world of sense,
Knowledge their food and love their reft;"
The disappointment and relief.
11. Love, the most cordial stream that flows, Is a deceitful good: Young Doris, who nor guilt nor danger knows, On the green margin stood, Pleas'd with the golden bubbles as they rose, And with more golden sands her fancy pav'd the flood; Then fond to be entirely blest,
16 And tempted by a faithless youth As void of goodness as of truth, She plunges in with heedless hafte And rears the nether mud:
20 Darkness and nauseous dregs arise O'er thy fair current Love, with large supplies Of pain to tease the heart and sorrow for the eyes. The golden bliss that charm’d her sight Is dash'd, and drown'd, and lost;
25 A spark or glimm'ring streak at most Shines here and there amidst the night, Amidft the turbid waves, and gives a faint delight.
III. Recover'd from the fad surprise Doris awakes at last, Grown by the disappointment wise, And manages with art th’unlucky caft: When the low'ring frown she spies On her haughty tyrant's brow, With humble love she meets his wrathful eyes 35 And makes her sov’reign beauty bow: