VII.

SHE. Tho' publick pun'fhment we escape, the fin

Will rack and torture us within:

Guilt and fin our bofom bears,

And tho' fair yet the fruit appears,

That worm which now the core does waste,

40

When long't has gnaw'd within, will break the skin VIII.

[at laft. HE. That thirsty drink, that hungry food I fought, That wounded balm, is all my fault;

And thou in pity didit apply

The kind and only remedy:

The caufe abfolves the crime; fince me

45

So mighty force did move, so mighty goodness thee.

IX.

SHE. Curfe on thine arts! methinks I hate thee now,

Yet wilt undo me more shouldft thou not come at night.

A tongue fo blefs'd by Nature and by Art,
That never yet it spoke but gain'd an heart;
Tho' what you faid had not been true,
If spoke by any clfe but you:

Your speech will govern Destiny,

5

And Fate will change rather than you should lie. 10

II.

'Tis true, if human reason were the guide,

Reason, methinks, was on my fide;

But that's a guide, alas! we must resign,
When th' authority's divine.

She faid, fhe faid herself, it would be fo;
And I, bold unbeliever, anfwer'd, No.

Never fo juftly fure before,

Errour the name of Blindness bore,

For whatfoe'er the question be

There's no man that has eyes would bet for me. 20

III.

If Truth itself (as other angels do

When they defcend to human view)

In a material form would deign to shine,
'I'would imitate or borrow thine:

So dazzling bright, yet so transparent clear,
So well-proportion'd would the parts appear,
Happy the eye which Truth could fee

Cloth'd in a fhape like thee;

But happier far the eye

Which could thy shape naked like Truth espy!

30

IV.

Yet this loft Wager costs me nothing more
Than what I ow'd to thee before.

Who would not venture for that debt to play,
Which he were bound howe'er to pay?

If Nature gave me pow'r to write in verse,
She gave it me thy praises to rehearse!
Thy wondrous beauty and thy wit
Has fuch a fov'reign right to it,

That no man's Muse for publick vent is free,
Till she has paid her customs first to thee.

BATHING IN THE RIVER.

I.

THE fish around her crowded, as they do
To the falfe light that treach'rous fishers show,
And all with as much ease might taken be
As fhe at firft took me.

For ne'er did light fo clear

Among the waves appear,

Tho' ev'ry night the Sun himself fet there.

Why to mute fish shouldst thou thyself discover,
And not to me, thy no lefs filent lover?

As fome from men their buried gold commit
To ghofts, that have no use of it!

Half their rich treasures fo

Maids bury, and, for ought we know,

(Poor Ignorants!) they 're mermaids all below.
III.

The am'rous waves would fain about her stay,
But still new am'rous waves drive them away,
And with swift current to those joys they haste,
That do as fwiftly wafte;

I laugh'd the wanton play to view,

But 't is, alas! at land fo too,

And still old lovers yield the place to new.

IV.

Kifs her, and, as you part, you am'rous Waves!
(My happier rivals, and my fellow-flaves)
Point to your flow'ry banks, and to her show
The good your bounties do;

Then tell her what your pride doth cost,
And how your use and beauty's loft,

When rig'rous Winter binds you up with frost.

V.

Tell her, her beauties and her youth, like thee,
Hafte without ftop to a devouring sea,

Where they will mix'd and undistinguish'd lie
With all the meaneft things that die :

As in the ocean thou

No privilege doft know

Above th' impureft streams that thither flow. 35

VI.

Tell her, kind Flood! when this has made her fad, Tell her there is yet one rem'dy to be had;

Show her how thou, tho' long fince paft, doft find Thyself yet still behind.

Marriage, fay to her, will bring

About the felfsame thing:

40

But she, fond Maid! shuts and feals up the fpring. 42

1

LOVE GIVEN OVER.

I.

It is enough; enough of time and pain

Haft thou confum'd in vain;

Leave, wretched Cowley! leave

Thyfelf with fhadows to deceive;

Think that already loft which thou must never gain.

II.

Three of thy luftieft and thy freshest years,

(Tofs'd in ftorms of hopes and fears)

Like helpless fhips that be

Set on fire i' th' midft o' the fea,

Have all been burnt in love, and all been drown'd in

III.

Refolve then on it, and by force or art,

[tears.

II

Free thy unlucky heart;

Since Fate does disapprove

Th' ambition of thy love,

And not one star in heav'n offers to take thy part. 15