If the to the will do fhow
Ought defirable but you,

Or if that would not rebel,

Should fhe another doctrine tell;
If my will do not refign

All her liberty to thine;

If fhe would not follow thee,

Tho' Fate and thou shouldst disagree;
And if (for I a curfe will give
Such as fhall force thee to believe)

My foul be not entirely thine,
May thy dear body ne'er be mine.

THE PASSIONS.

ROM hate, fear, hope, anger, and envy,

I.

FROM

And all the paffions elfe that be,

In vain I boast of liberty;

In vain this ftate a freedom call,

Since I have love, and love is all:

Sot that I am! who think it fit to brag

That I have no disease besides the plague!
II.

So in a zeal the fons of Ifracl

Sometimes upon their idols fell,
And they depos'd the powers of hell;
Baal and Aftarte down they threw,
And Accaron and Moloch too:

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All this imperfect piety did no good,

Whilft

yet, alas! the calf of Bethel stood..

III.

Fondly I boast that I have dress'd my vine
With painful art, and that the wine

Is of a taste rich and divine;

Since love, by mixing poison there,
Has made it worse than vinegar:

Love ev'n the taste of nectar changes fo,
That gods chufe rather water here below.

IV.

Fear, anger, hope, all paffions elfe that be,
Drive this one tyrant out of me,

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And practife all your tyranny.

The change of ills fome good will do;

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Th' oppreffed wretched Indians fo,

Being flaves by the great Spanish monarch made,

Call in the States of Holland to their aid.

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WISDOM.

'Tis mighty wife that you would now be thought,
With your grave rules front mufty morals brought,
Thro' which fome ftreaks, too, of divin'ty ran,
Partly of Monk, and partly Puritan ;

With tedious repetitions, too, you 'ave ta’en
Often the name of Vanity in vain :

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Things which, I take it, Friend! you'd ne'er recite, Should the I love but fay to' you, Come at night.

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The wisest king refus'd all pleasures quite,
Till wisdom from above did him enlight;
But when that gift his ign'rance did remove,
Pleasures he chofe, and plac'd them all in love,
And if by' event the counfels may be seen,
This wifdom 't was that brought the Southern queen.
She came not, like a good old wife, to know 15
The wholefome nature of all plants that grow;
Nor did fo far from her own country roam,
To cure fcall'd heads and broken fhins at home:
She came for that which more befits all wives,
The art of giving, not of faving, lives.

THE DESPAIR.

I.

BENEATH this gloomy shade,

By Nature only for my forrows made,

I'll spend this voice in cries,

In tears I'll waste thefe eyes,
By love fo vainly fed;

So Luft of old the deluge punished.

Ah! wretched Youth faid I';

Ah! wretched Youth! twice did I fadly cry;

Ah! wretched Youth! the fields and floods reply.
II.

When thoughts of love I entertain,

I meet no words but Never, and, In vain ;
Never, alas! that dreadful name

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Which fuels the infernal flame:

Never! my time to come must wafte;

In vain! torments the present and the past:
In vain! in vain! faid 1;

In vain! in vain! twice did I fadly cry

In vain! in vain! the fields and floods reply.
III.

No more fhall fields or floods do fo,

For I to fhades more dark and filent.go:
All this world's noise appears to me
A dull ill-acted comedy:

No comfort to my wounded fight,

In the fun's bufy and impertinent light.

Then down I laid my head

T

Down on cold earth, and for awhile was dead,

And my freed foul to a strange somewhere fled.

Ah! fottish foul! faid I,

IV.

When back to' its cage again I faw it fly:

Fool! to refume her broken chain

And row her galley here again!

Fool! to that body to return

Where it condemn'd and deftin'd is to burn!

Once dead, how can it be

Death should a thing fo pleasant seem to thee,

That thou shouldst come to live it o'er again in me?36

THE WISH.

།

WELL, then, I now do plainly fee,
This bufy world and I fall ne'er agree;
The very honey of all earthly joy
Does of all meats the fooneft cloy:
And they (methinks) deferve my pity'
Who for it can endure the flings,
The crowd, and buz, and murmurings,
Of this great hive, the City.

II.

Ah! yet, ere I defcend to the grave,

May I a small house and large garden have!

And a few friends, and many books, both true,
Both wife, and both delightful too!

And fince Love ne'er will from me flee,

A Mistress moderately fair,

And good as guardian angels are,

Only belov'd, and loving me!

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III.

Oh! Fountains! when in you fhall I

Myfelf, eas'd of unpeaceful thoughts, espy?

Oh! Fields! oh! Woods! when, when shall I be made

The happy tenant of your shade?

Here's the fpring-head of Pleasure's flood,

Where all the riches lie that she

Has coin'd and ftamp'd for good.

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