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That the great Ajax Telamon

Refus'd to live without the prize)
Thofe Achive peers did more engage
Than fhe the gallants of our age.

That beam of beauty which begun

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To warm us fo when thou wert here,
Now fcorches like the raging fun,
When Sirius does first appear.
O fix this flame! and let defpair
Redeem the rest from endless care.

X.

TO MRS. BRAUGHTON,

SERVANT TO SACHARISSA.

FAIR Fellow-fervant! may your gentle car
Prove more propitious to my flighted care
Than the bright dame's we ferve: for her relief
(Vex'd with the long expreffions of my grief)
Receive thefe plaints; nor will her high disdain
Forbid by humble Mufe to court her train.

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So, in thefe nations which the fun adore, Some modest Persian, or some weak-ey'd Moor, No higher dares advance his dazzled fight, Than to fome gilded cloud, which near the light r Of their afcending god adorns the East,

And, graced with his beams, outfhines the reft.

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Thy fkilful hand contributes to our wo,
And whets those arrows which confound us fo.
A thousand Cupids in those curls do fit

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(Those curious nets!) thy flender fingers knit. The Graces put not more exactly on

Th' attire of Venus when the Ball she won,
Than Sachariffa by thy care is dreft,

When all our youth prefers her to the rest.

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You the soft season know when beft her mind

May be to pity or to love inclin'd:
In fome well-chofen hour fupply his fear,
Whose hopeless love durft never tempt the ear
Of that stern goddess. You, her priest, declare
What off'rings may propitiate the fair:
Rich orient pearl, bright stones that ne'er decay,
Or polish'd lines, which longer last than they :
For if I thought fhe took delight in thofe,

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To where the cheerful Morn does firft difclofe, 30
(The fhady Night removing with her beams)
Wing'd with bold love I'd fly to fetch fuch gems.
But fince her eyes, her teeth, her lip, excels
All that is found in mines or fishes' fhells,
Her nobler part as far exceeding thefe,
None but immortal gifts her mind should pleafe.
The fhining jewels Greece and Troy bestow'd
On Sparta's Queen *, her lovely neck did load,
And fnowy wrists; but when the town was burn'd,
Those fading glories were to afhes turn'd;

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Her beauty, too, had perifh'd, and her fame,

Had not the Muse redeem'd them from the flame.42

XI.

TO MY YOUNG LADY LUCY SIDNEY.

WHY came I fo untimely forth

Into a world which, wanting thee,
Could entertain us with no worth
Or fhadow of felicity?

That time fhould me so far remove
From that which I was born to love!

Yet, fairest Bloffom! do not flight
That age which you may know fo foon:
The rofy Morn resigns her light
And milder glory to the Noon:
And then what wonders fhall you do,
Whofe dawning beauty warms us fo?

Hope waits upon the flow'ry prime;
And fummer, tho' it be lefs gay,
Yet is not look'd on as a time

Of declination or decay :

For with a full hand that does bring

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All that was promis'd by the spring.

XII.

TO AMORET.

FAIR! that you may truly know
What you unto Thryfis owe,
I will tell you how I do
Sachariffa love and you.
Joy falutes me when I fet
My bleft eyes on Amoret;
But with wonder I am strook,
While I on the other look.

If fweet Amoret complains,
I have fenfe of all her pains;
But for Sacharissa I

Do not only grieve, but die.
All that of myself is mine,
Lovely Amoret! is thine:
Sachariffa's captive fain

Would untie his iron chain,

And those scorching beams to fhun,

To thy gentle fhadow run.

If the foul had free election
To difpofe of her affection,
I would not thus long have borne
Haughty Sachariffa's scorn :
But 't is fure fome pow'r above,
Which controls our wills in love!

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If not a love, a strong defire
To create and spread that fire
In my breast, folicits me,
Beauteous Amoret! for thee.

'Tis amazement more than love
Which her radiant eyes do move:
If lefs fplendour wait on thine,
Yet they fo benignly fhine,
I would turn my dazzled fight
To behold their milder light:
But as hard 't is to destroy
That high flame as to enjoy;

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Which how eas❜ly I may do,

Heav'n (as eas❜ly fcal'd) does know!

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Amoret! as fweet and good

As the most delicious food,

Which but tafted does impart

Life and gladness to the heart.
Sachariffa's beauty's wine,
Which to madness doth incline;
Such a liquor as no brain

That is mortal can fuftain.

Scarce can I to Heav'n excufe

The devotion which I use
Unto that adored dame;

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For 't is not unlike the fame

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Which I thither ought to fend ;

So that if it could take end,

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