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What curfed weed 's this love! but one grain fow,
Straight will it choke up and devour
'Twill kill, I fear, my very laurel too.
But now all's gone';' I now, alas! complain,
Since by my own unforc'd confent
And is fo fettled in the throne,
That 't were rebellion now to claim mine own. go
ow 't is fordid, and 't is low, (All this as well as you I know) Which I fo hotly now pursue; (I know all this as well as you) But whilft this curfed flesh i bear,
And all the weakness and the basenefs there,
Alas! alas! it will be always fo.
In vain, exceedingly in vain,
I rage fometimes and bite my chain ;
For to what purpose do I bite
With teeth which ne'er will break it quite ?
Was by this sturdy tyrant buffeted,
What wonder is it if weak I be flain?
As water fluid is, till it do grow
Solid and fix'd by cold;
So in warm feafons Love does loosely flow,
A woman's rigour and disdain
Does his fwift course restrain.
Tho' conftant and confiftent now it be,
Yet when kind beams appear
It melts, and glides apace into the fea,
So the Sun's am'rous play
Kiffes the ice away.
You may in vulgar loves find always this,
But my fubftantial love
Of a more firm and perfect nature is,
No weathers can it move;
Tho' heat diffolve the ice again,
The cryftal folid does remain.
THEN like fome wealthy island thou shalt lie,
Thou like fair Albion to the failor's fight,
With loving arms for ever clasping thee.
But I'll embrace thee gentlier far than fo,
Whilft thy unwafted fountain feeds my love.
Such heat and vigour fhall our kiffes bear,
Yet nothing but the night our sports fhall know;
* This poem has no title in any of the editions.
Creeping fo far beneath the fea,
Than I will do t' enjoy and feaft on thee.
Men out of wisdom, women out of pride,
That may fecure thee, but thou 'ast yet from me
For there's no danger I should tell
The joys which are to me unspeakable.
In vain, thou drowsy God! I thee invoke;
With a thick cloud by vapours made,
Whofe flame's fo pure that it fends up no firoke.
Yet how do tears but from fome vapours rife?
The fate of Egypt I sustain,
And never feel the dew of rain,
Thou who doft men (as nights to colours do)
Bring all to an equality;
Come, thou just God! and equal me
Awhile to my disdainful she:
Till Love does me the favour show;
Love equals all a better way than you.
Then never more shalt thou b' invok'd by me;
Let her but grant, and then will I
For betwixt thee and them that love
Never will an agreement be;
Thou fcorn'ft th' unhappy, and the happy thee. 28
BEAUTY! thou wild fantastick ape,
Who doft in ev'ry country change thy shape!
Here black,there brown, here tawny, and there white; Thou Flatt'rer! which comply'ft with ev'ry fight!
Thou Babel! which confound'st the eye
With unintelligible variety!
Who haft no certain what nor where,