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Fruition adds no new wealth, but destroys ;
And while it pleaseth much, yet still it cloys.
Who thinks he should be happier made for that,
As reas'nably might hope he might grow fat
By eating to a furfeit: this once past,
What relishes ? ev'n kifjes lose their taste.
Blessings may be repeated, while they cloy;
But shall we starve, 'cause surfeitings destroy?
And if fruition did the taste impair
Of kisses, why should yonder happy Pair,
Whose joys just Hymen warrants all the night,
Confume the day too in this less delight?
Urge not 'tis necesary; alas! we know
The homeliest thing that mankind does, is fo.
The world is of a large extent we see,
And must be peopled, children there must be.
So must bread too: but fonce there are enough
Born to that drudgery, what need we plough?
I need not plough, since what the stooping Hine
Gets of my pregnant land, must all be mine:
But in this nobler tillage 'tis not so ;
For, when ANCHis es did fair Venus know,
What int'reft had poor VULCAN in the boy,
Famous Æneas, or the present joy?
Womer enjoy'd, whate'er before they've been,
Are like Romances read, or scenes once seen :
Fruition dulls, or spoils the Play, much more
Than if one read, or knew, the plot before.
Plays, and Romances read, and feen, do fall
In our opinions : yet, not seen at all,
Whom would they please? To an heroic tale
Would you not listen, left it should grow ftale?
CO N. 'Tis expe&tation makes a blessing dear ; Heav'n were not heav'n, if we knew what it were.
PRO. If 'twere not heav'n, if we knew what it were, 'Twould not be heav'n to those that now are there.
And as in propeats we are there pleas'd moff,
Where something keeps the eye from being loft,
And leaves us room to guefs : fo here, restraint
Holds up delight, that with excess would faint.
Restraint preserves the pleasure we have got,
But he ne'er has it, that enjoys it not.
In goodly prospects, who contracts the space,
Or takes not all the bounty of the place?
We wish remov'd what standeth in our light,
And nature blame for limiting our fight:
Where you stand wisely winking, that the view
Of the fair prospect may be always new.
They, who know all the wealth they have, are poor;
He's only rich that cannot tell his ftore.
Not he, that knows the wealth he has, is poor ;
But he, that dares not touch, nor use his store.
To a Friend, of the different Success of their
Hrice happy Pair! of whom we cannot know
Which first began to love, or loves most now:
Fair course of passion! where two lovers start,
And run together, heart still yok'd with heart:
Successful youth! whom Love has taught the way
To be victorious, in the first effay.
Sure love's an art best practised at first,
And where th' experienced still prosper worft!
I, with a diff'rent fate, persu'd in vain
The haughty CÆLIA; 'till my juft disdain
Of her neglect, above that pafsion born,
Did pride to pride oppose, and scorn to scorn.
Now she relents; but all too late, to move
A heart directed to a nobler love :
The scales are turn'd, her kindness weighs no more
Now, than my vows, and service, did before.
So, in some well-wrought hangings, you may see
How HECTOR leads, and how the GRECIANS flee:
Here, the fierce Mars his courage so inspires,
That with bold hand the Argive fleet he fires :
But there, from heav'n the * blue-ey'd virgin falls,
And frighted Troy retires within her walls :
They that are foremost in that bloody race,
rn head anon, and give the conqu’rors chase.
So like the chances are of love, and war,
That they alone in this distinguish'd are ;
In love, the victors from the vanquish'd fly ;
They fly that wound, and they persue that die.
An APOLOGY for having Lov'd before.
HEY that never had the use
Tof the grape's furprizing juice,
To the first delicious cup
Al their reason render up:
Neither do, nor care to know,
Whether it be beft or no.
So, they that are to love inclin'd,
Sway'd by chance, nor choice, or art, To the first that's fair, or kind,
Make a present of their heart: 'Tis not she that first we love, But whom dying we approve.
To man, that was in th' ev'ning made,
Stars gave the first delight; Admiring, in the gloomy shade,
Those little drops of light.
Then, at AURORA, whose fair hand
Remov'd them from the skies,
He gazing tow'rd the east did stand,
She entertain'd his eyes.
But when the bright fun did appear,
All those he 'gan despise ;
His wonder was determin'd there,
And could no higher rise:
He neither might, nor wilh'd to know
A more refulgent light:
For that (as mine your beauties now)
Imploy'd his utmost sight.
AIR est piece of well-form'd earth!
Urge not thus your haughty birth:
The pow'r, which you have o'er us, lyes
Not in your race, but in your eyes.
None but a Prince! alas! that voice
Confines you to a narrow choice.
Should you no honey vow to taste,
But what the master-bees have plac'd
In compass of their cells, how small
A portion to your share would fall ?
Nor all appear among
Worthy the stock from whence they grew :
The fap, which at the root is bred
In trees, thro' all the boughs is spread ;
But virtues, which in parents shine,
Make not like progress thro' the line.
'Tis not from whom, but where, we live:
The place does oft those graces give.