WHO CAN SLEEP WHEN SHE PLEASES.
No wonder Sleep from careful lovers flies, To bathe himself in Sachariffa's eyes.
As fair Aftræa once from earth to heav'n, By ftrife and loud impiety was driv'n; So with our plaints offended, and our tears, Wife Somnus to that paradife repairs;
Waits on her will, and wretches does forfake,
To court the nymph for whom thofe wretches wake. More proud than Phœbus of his throne of gold, Is the foft God those fofter limbs to hold; Nor would exchange with Jove, to hide the skies In dark'ning clouds, the pow'r to close her eyes; Eyes which fo far all other lights control, They warm our mortal parts, but these our foul!
Let her free spirit, whose unconquer'd breast 15 Holds fuch deep quiet and untroubled rest, Know that tho' Venus and her fon should spare Her rebel heart, and never teach her care, Yet Hymen may in force his vigils keep, And for another's joy fufpend her fleep.
As when a fort of wolves infeft the night With their wild howlings at fair Cynthia's light, The noise may chase sweet flumber from our eyes, But never reach the mistress of the skies; So with the news of 3achariffa's wrongs,
Her vexed fervants blame thofe envious tongues; Call Love to witness that no painted fire Can fcorch men fo, or kindle fuch defire; While, unconcerned, the feems mov'd no more With this new malice than our loves before; But from the height of her great mind looks down On both our paffions without smile or frown. So little care of what is done below
Hath the bright dame whom Heav'n affeð fo! Paints her, 't is true, with the fame hand which spreads Like glorious colours thro' the flow'ry meads, When lavish Nature, with her beft attire,
Clothes the gay fpring, the feafon of defire.
Paints her, 't is true, and does her cheek adorn With the fame art wherewith fhe paints the morn; 20 With the fame art wherewith fhe gilded fo
Thofe paintedcloudswhich form Thaumantias' bow.22
THROUGH A CROWD OF PEOPLE.
As in old chaos (heav'n with earth confus'd, And flars with rocks together crush'd and bruis'd) The fun his light no further could extend
Than the next hill, which on his fhoulders lean'd;
So in this throng bright Sachariffa far'd,
Opprefs'd by those who strove to be her guard; As ships, tho' never so obfequious, fall Foul in a tempeft on their admiral. A greater favour this disorder brought Unto her fervants than their awful thought Durit entertain, when thus compell'd they preft The yielding marble of her snowy breast. While love infults, disguised in the cloud And welcome force of that unruly crowd.
So th' amorous tree, while yet the air is calm, Juft diftance keeps from his defired palm;
But when the wind her ravish'd branches throws Into his arms, and mingles all their boughs,
Tho' loath he feems her tender leaves to prefs, More loath he is that friendly form fhould cease, 20 From whofe rude bounty he the double use. At once receives, of pleasure and excuse.
OF HER BEING PAINTED.
As when a fort of wolves infeft the night With their wild howlings at fair Cynthia's light, The noise may chase sweet flumber from our eyes, But never reach the mistress of the skies; So with the news of 3achariffa's wrongs,
Her vexed fervants blame those envious tongues; Call Love to witness that no painted fire Can fcorch men fo, or kindle fuch defire; While, unconcerned, the feems mov'd no more With this new malice than our loves before; But from the height of her great mind looks down On both our paflions without smile or frown. So little care of what is done below
Hath the bright dame whom Heav'n affe&teth fo! Paints her, 't is true, with the same hand which spreads Like glorious colours thro' the flow'ry meads,
When lavish Nature, with her beft attire,
Clothes the gay fpring, the season of defire.
Paints her, 't is true, and does her cheek adorn
With the fame art wherewith fhe paints the morn; 20 With the fame art wherewith fhe gilded fo Thofepaintedcloudswhichform Thaumantias' bow.22
THROUGH A CROWD OF FEOPLE.
As in old chaos (heav'n with earth confus'd, And flars with rocks together crush'd and bruis'd) The fun his light no further could extend
Than the next hill, which on his shoulders lean'd; So in this throng bright Sacharissa far'd, Opprefs'd by those who strove to be her guard; As fhips, tho' never so obfequious, fall Foul in a tempeft on their admiral. A greater favour this disorder brought Unto her fervants than their awful thought Durit entertain, when thus compell'd they preft The yielding marble of her snowy breast. While love infults, difguifed in the cloud And welcome force of that unruly crowd.
So th' amorous tree, while yet the air is calm, Juft diftance keeps from his defired palm;
But when the wind her ravish'd branches throws Into his arms, and mingles all their boughs,
Tho' loath he feems her tender leaves to prefs, More loath he is that friendly form should cease, 20 From whofe rude bounty he the double ufe
At once receives, of pleasure and excuse.
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