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No mortal flame was e'er fo cruel
To a LADY, from whom he receiv'd a.
ADAM! intending to have try'd
The filver favor which you gave, In ink the shining point I dy'd,
And drench'd it in the fable wave: When, griev'd to be so foully stain'd, On you it thus to me complain'd.
Suppose you had deserv'd to take
From her fair hand so fair a boon; Yet how deserved I to make
So ill a change; who ever won Immortal praise for what I wrote, Instructed by her noble thought?
1, that expressed her commands
To mighty Lords, and Princely dames,
Proud that I would record their names,
So I, the wronged pen to please,
Make it my humble thanks express Unto your Ladyship, in These :
And now 'tis forced to confess,
That your great self did ne'er indite,
CALOR I S.
HLORIS! since first our calm of peace
Your favors with your fears increase,
And growing mischiefs make you kind.
So the fair tree, which ftið preserves
Her fruit, and state, while no wind blows, In storms from that uprightness swerves ;
And the glad earth about her strows
Hile I listen to thy voice,
CHLORIS! I feel my life decay:
Peace, CHLORIS, peace! or singing die;
That together you, and I,
To heav'n may go-:
For all we know
Of Loving at First Sight.
OT caring to observe the wind,
Or the new sea explore, Snatch'd from my self, how far behind
Already I behold the shore !
May not a thousand dangers sleep
Sweetness, truth, and ev'ry grace
Some other nymphs, with colors faint,
The Self - Banilld.
T is not that I love you less,
But, to prevent the sad increase
Of hopeless love, I keep away.
In vain, alas! for every thing,
Which I have known belong to you, Your form does to my fancy bring,
And makes my old wounds bleed anew.
Who in the spring, from the new sun,
Already has a fever got,
Which PHOE BU S thro' his veins has shot:
Too late he would the pain afswage,
And to thick shadows does retire : About with him he bears the rage,
And in his 'tainted blood the fire.
But vow'd I have, and never must
Your banish'd servant trouble you: For if I break, you may
miftruft The vow I made to love you too.
Go, lovely role!
That now she knows,
Tell her that's young,
That hadst thou sprung
Small is the worth
Bid her come forth,
Then die! that she
May read in thee :
THYRSIS. GALATE A,
Sad GALATEA on the bank I spy'd :
G4 L A T E A. You that can tune your founding ftrings fo well, Of Ladies' beauties, and of love to tell, Once change your note; and let your The justest grief that ever touch'd the Court.