So the earth's face trees, herbs, and flow'rs, do dress, With other beauties numberless;

But at the centre darkness is, and hell;

There wicked sp'rits, and there the damned, dwell.
III.

With me, alas! quite contrary it fares;
Darkness and death lies in my weeping eyes,
Defpair and paleness in my face appears,
And grief and fear, Love's greatest enemies;
But, like the Persian tyrant, Love within

Keeps his proud court, and ne'er is seen.

IV.

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Oh! take my heart, and by that means you'll prove
Within, too, flor'd enough of love:

Give me but your's, I'll by that change so thrive,
That love in all my parts fhall live.

So pow 'rful is this Change, it render can

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My outfide woman, and your infide man.

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CLAD ALL IN WHITE.

I

FAIREST

AIREST thing that fhines below,

Why in this robe doft thou appear?

Wouldst thou a White moft perfect show,
Thou must at all no garment wear:
Thou wilt feem much whiter fo,

Than winter when 't is clad with fnow.

II.

'Tis not the linen shows so fair,
Her skin shines thro' and makes it bright;
So clouds themselves like funs appear,
When the fun pierces them with light;
So lilies in a glass enclose,

The glass will feem as white as those.
III.

Thou now one heap of beauty art,
Nought outwards or within is foul;
Condensed beams make every part;

Thy body's clothed like thy foul.
Thy foul, which does itself difplay,
Like a ftar plac'd i' th' Milky-way.

IV.

Such robes the faints departed wear,
Woven all with light divine;
Such their exalted bodies are,
And with fuch full glory fhine;
But they regard not mortals' pain;
Men pray, I fear, to both in vain.

V

Yet feeing thee fo gently pure,

My hopes will needs continue ftill;
Thou wouldst not take this garment, sure,
When thou hadft an intent to kill?
Of peace and yielding who would doubt,
When the White flag he fees hung out?

LEAVING ME, AND THEN LOVING MANY.
So men, who once have caft the truth away,
Forfook by God, do ftrange wild lufts obey;
So the vain Gentiles, when they left t'adore
One Deity, could not stop at thousands more:
Their zeal was senseless straight and boundless grown;
They worshipp'd many a beast, and many a stone. 6
Ah! fair Apostate ! couldft thou think to flee
From truth and goodness, yet keep unity?
Ireign'd alone; and ny blefs'd felf could call
The univerfal monarch of her all.

ΙΟ

Mine, mine her fair East Indies were above,
Where those funs rife that cheer the world of love;
Where beauties fhine like gems of richest price;
Where coral grows, and every breath is fpice:
Mine, too, her rich West Indies were below,
Where mines of gold and endlefs treasures grow.
But as when the Pellaan conqu'ror dy'd,
Many small princes did his crown divide;
So. fince my love his vanquish'd world forfook,
Murder'd by poifons from her falsehood took,
An hundred petty kings claim each their part,
And rend that glorious empire of her heart.

MY HEART DISCOVERED.

HER body is fo gently bright,

Clear and tranfparent to the fight,

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(Clear as fair crystal to the view,
Yet foft as that, ere stone it grew)
That thro' her flesh, methinks, is feen
The brighter foul that dwells within:
Our eyes the subtile covering pass,
And fee that lily thro' its glass.
I thro' her breast her heart espy,
As fouls in hearts do fouls descry;
I feet with gentle motions beat,
I fee light in 't, but find no heat.
Within, like angels in the sky,
A thousand gilded thoughts do fly;
Thoughts of bright and noblest kind,
Fair and chafte as mother-mind:
But, oh! what other heart is there,
Which fighs and crowds to her 's fo near?
'Tis all on flame, and does like fire
To that, as to its heav'n, afpire:
The wounds are many in 't and deep;
Still does it bleed, and still does
weep.
Whose ever wretched heart it be,
I cannot chufe but grieve to fee.
What pity in my breast does reign?
Methinks I feel, too, all its pain:
So torn, and fo defac'd, it lies,

That it could ne'er be known by th' eyes;
But, oh! at last I heard it groan

And knew by th' voice that 't was mine own.

So poor Alcione, when the faw
A fhipwreck'd body tow'rds her draw,
Beat by the waves, let fall a tear,
Which only then did pity wear;
But when the corpfe on fhore were caft,
Which the her husband found at last,
What should the wretched widow do?

Grief chang`d her straight; away she flew,

Turn'd to a bird; and fo at last shall I,

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Both from by murder'd heart and murd❜rer fly. 40

ANSWER TO THE PLATONICKS.

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So angels love; fo let them love for me;
When I'm all foul, fuch fhall my love, too, be.
Who nothing here but like a sp'rit would do,
In a fhort time (believe it) will be one too.
But shall our love do what in beasts we feed
Ev'n beasts eat too, but not fo well as we.
And you as justly might in thirst refuse
The ufe of wine, because beafts water use:
They tafte those pleasures as they do their food;
Undrefs'd they take it, devour it raw and crude: IÓ
But to us men Love cooks it at his fire,

And adds the poignant fauce of sharp defire.

Beafts do the fame: 't is true, but ancient Fame Says, gods themfeves turn'd beafts to do the fame.

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