« السابقةمتابعة »
Amoret! as sweet and good
As the most delicious food,
Which, but tasted, does impart
Life and gladness to the heart.
Sacharissa's beauty's wine,
Which to madness doth incline :
Such a liquor, as no brain
That is mortal can sustain.
Scarce can I to Heaven excuse
The devotion, which I use
Unto that adored dame :
For 'tis not unlike the same,
Which I thither ought to send.
So that if it could take end,
'Twould to Heaven itself be due,
To succeed her, and not you :
Who already have of me
All that's not idolatry:
Which, though not so fierce a flame,
Is longer like to be the same.
Then smile on me, and I will prove Wonder is shorter-liv'd than love.
AMORET, the Milky Way,
Fram'd of many nameless stars !
The smooth stream, where none can say,
He this drop to that prefers !
Amoret, my lovely foe !
Tell me where thy strength does lie ? Where the power that charms us so ?
In thy soul, or in thy eye ?
By that snowy neck alone,
Or thy grace in motion seen, No such wonders could be done ;
Yet thy waist is straight, and clean, As Cupid's shaft, or Hermes' rod; And powerful too, as either god.
OF LOVE. ANGER, in hasty words, or blows, Itself discharges on our foes ; And sorrow too finds some relief In tears, which wait upon our grief : So every passion but fond love, Unto its own redress does move : But that alone the wretch inclines To what prevents his own designs ; Makes him lament, and sigh, and weep, Disorder'd, tremble, fawn, and creep; Postures which render him despis'd, Where he endeavours to be priz'd : For women, born to be control'd, Stoop to the forward and the bold; Affect the haughty and the proud, The gay, the frolic, and the loud.
Who first the generous steed opprest ;
Not kneeling did salute the beast ;
But with high cqurage, life, and force,
Approaching, tam'd th' unruly horse.
Unwisely we the wiser East
Pity, supposing them opprest,
With tyrants' force, whose law is will,
By which they govern, spoil, and kill :
Each nymph, but moderately fair,
Commands with no less rigour here.
Should some brave Turk, that walks among
His twenty lasses, bright and young,
And beckons to the willing dame,
Preferr'd to quench his present flame,
Behold as many gallants here,
With modest guise, and silent fear,
All to one female idol bend,
While her high pride does scarce descend
To mark their follies, he would swear,
That these her guard of eunuchs were ;
And that a more majestic queen,
Or humbler slaves, he had not seen.
All this with indignation spoke,
In vain I struggled with the yoke
Of mighty love : that conquering look,
When next beheld, like lightning strook
My blasted soul, and made me bow
Lower than those I pity'd now.
So the tall stag, upon the brink
Of some smooth stream, about to drink,
Surveying there his armed head,
With shame remembers that he fled
The scorned dogs, resolves to try
The combat next : but, if their cry
Invades again his trembling ear,
He strait resumes his wonted care;
Leaves the untasted spring behind,
And, wing’d with fear, outflies the wind.
Design or Chance make others wive,
But Nature did this match contrive :
Eve might as well have Adam fled,
As she deny'd her little bed
To him, for whom Heav'n seem'd to frame,
And measure out this only dame.
Thrice happy is that humble pair,
Beneath the level of all care !
Over whose heads those arrows fly
Of sad distrust and jealousy:
Secured in as high extreme,
As if the world held none but them.
To him the fairest nymphs do show
Like moving mountains topp'd with snow;
And every man a Polypheme
Does to his Galatea scem :
None may presume her faith to prove;
He proffers death, that proffers love.
Ah! Chloris ! that kind Nature thus
From all the world had sever'd us:
Creating for ourselves us two,
As Love has me for only you !
TO MY LORD PROTECTOR,
Of the Present Grealness, and Joint Interest, of his
Highness and this Nation.
While with a strong, and yet a gentle, hand,
You bridle faction, and our hearts command,
Protect us from ourselves, and from the foe,
Make us unite, and make us conquer too :
Let partial spirits still aloud complain,
Think themselves injur'd that they cannot reign,
And own no liberty, but where they may
Without control upon their fellows prey.
Above the waves as Neptune show'd his face,
To chide the winds, and save the Trojan race;
So has your highness, rais'd above the rest,
Storms of ambition, tossing us, represt.
Your drooping country, torn with civil hate,
Restor'd by you, is made a glorious state;
The seat of empire, where the Irish come,
And the unwilling Scots, to fetch their doom.