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Cerne nihil, cerni dices nihil absque colore.
Be, by my example, wise;
Devouring flames require new food; Faith to pleasure sacrifice.
My beart's consum'd almost : New fires must kindle in her blood,
Or mine go out, and that 's as good. Silly swain, I'll have you know, 'Twas my practice long ago: Whilst you vainly thought me true,
Would'st live when love is lost? I was false, in scorn of you.
Be dead before thy passion dies;
For if thou should'st survive,
What anguish would thy heart surprise,
To see her flames begin to rise, Making fools, than keeping lovers.
And thine no more alive?
There sighs not on the plain
So lost a swain as I; Scorch'd up with love, froze with disdain, Of killing sweetness I complain.
On that bewitching face,
I fly from place to place.
So nice she is, and fair;
But, fond of their own art,
A dragon in the heart.
Who, peevish to mankind,
Then add a cruel mind.
Ungentle shepherd ! cease, for shame,
Which way can you pretend
When love is at an end ?
Love to my soul doth cling;
They wither in the spring.
Dissolving into air,
Or at her feet despair.
STREPHON. Since she 's insensible of love,
By Honour taught to hate; If we,
forc'd by decrees above, Must sensible to beauty prove,
How tyrannous is Fate ! I to the nymph have never nam'd
The cause of all my pain.
THE ADVICE. All things submit themselves to your command, Fair Cælia, when it does not Love withstand: The power it borrows from your eyes alone, All but the god must yield to, who has none. Were he not blind, such are the charms you have, He'd quit his godhead to become your slave: Be proud to act a mortal hero's part, And throw himself for fame on bis own dart. But Fate has otherwise dispos'd of things, In different bands subjected slaves and kings: Fetter'd in forms of royal state are they, While we enjoy the freedom to obey. That Fate, like you, resistless does ordain To Love, that over Beauty he shall reign. By harmony the universe does move, And what is harmony but mutual love? Who would resist an empire so divine, Which universal Nature does enjoin? See gentle brooks, how quietly they glide, Kissing the rugged banks on either side ; While in their crystal streams at once they show, And with them feed the flowers which they bestow: Though rudely throng'd by a too near embrace, In gentle murmurs they keep on their pace To the lov'd sea; for streams have their desires; Cool as they are, they feel Love's powerful fires, And with such passion, that if any force. Stop or molest them in their amorous course,
Such bashfulness may well be blam'd;
My humble proffer'd one,
Hers are not fair alone.
They swell, break down with rage, and ravage o'er “ Honour's got in, and keeps her heart, The banks they kiss'd, and flowers they fed before. Durst he but venture once abroad, Submit then, Cælia, ere you be reduc'd,
In my own right I'd take your part, For rebels, vanquish'd once, are vilely us’d.
And show myself a mightier god." Beauty 's no more but the dead soil, which Love
This huffing Honour domineers Manures, and does by wise Commerce improve:
In breasts, where he alone has place:
The hector dares not show his face.
Let me still languish and complain,
Be most inhumanly denyd : Lovers afford whole magazines of joys.
I have some pleasure in my pain, But, if you 're fond of baubles, be, and starve, She can have none with all her pride. Your gewgaw reputation still preserve:
I fall a sacrifice to Love, Live upon modesty and empty fame,
She lives a wretch for Honour's sake. Foregoing sense for a fantastic name.
Whose tyrant does most cruel prove,
The difference is not hard to make.
You'll find hers cannot be the same;
"Tis noble confidence in men,
In women mean mistrustful shame.
The utmost grace the Greeks could show, Stranger alike to Hope and to Despair.
When to the Trojans they grew kind, Now Love with a tumultuous train invades
Was with their arms to let them go,
And leave their lingering wives behind.
They beat the men, and burnt the town; Like blazing comets in a winter sky. How can my passion merit your offence,
Then all the baggage was their own. That challenges so little recompense?
There the kind deity of wine For I am one born only to admire,
Kiss'd the soft wanton god of love; Too humble e'er to hope, scarce to desire. This clapp?d his wings, that press'd his vine; A thing, whose bliss depends upon your will,
And their best powers united move, Who would be proud you'd deign to use him ill. While each brave Greek embrac'd his punk, Then give me leave to glory in my chain,
Lulld her asleep, and then grew drunk.
Would seem a winter's day;
Are torn and snatch'd away.
But, oh! how slowly minutes roll,
When absent from her eyes;
That fed my love, which is my soul
It languishes and dies.
For then, no more a soul but shade,
It mournfully does move;
The living tomb of love.
You wiser men despise me not;
Whose love-sick fancy raves,
Short ages live in graves.
Whene'er those wounding eyes, so full Phillis continued still unkind:
Of sweetness you did see, " Then you may e'en despair,” he said,
Had you not been profoundly dull, " In vain I strive to change her mind.
You had gone mad like me.
Nor censure us, you who perceive
So sweet a face, so soft a heart, My best-belov'd and me,
Such eyes so very kiud, Sigh and lament, complain and grieve;
Betray, alas! the silly art You think we disagree.
Virtue had ill design'd. Alas! 'tis sacred jealousy,
Poor feeble tyrant! who in vain Love rais'd to an extreme;
Would proudly take upon her, The only proof, 'twixt them and me,
Against kind Nature to maintain We love, and do not dream.
Affected rules of Honour. Fantastic fancies fondly/move,
The scorn she bears so helpless proves, And in frail joys believe :
When I plead passion to her, Taking false pleasure for true love;
That much she fears (but more she loves) But pain can ne'er deceive.
Her vassal should undo her.
And anxious cares, when past,
LOVE AND LIFE.
A SONG. Absent from thee I languish still;
Then ask me not, When I return? The straying fool 't will plainly kill,
To wish all day, all night to mourn. Dear, from thine arms then let me fly,
That my fantastic mind may prove The torinents it deserves to try,
That tears my fix'd heart from my love.
To thy sate bosom I retire,
May I contented there expire !
I fall on some base heart unblest;
And lose my everlasting rest.
All my past life is mine no more,
The flying hours are gone:
By meinory alone.
How can it then be mine?
Phillis, is only thine.
False hearts, and broken vows;
'Tis all that Heaven allows.
A SONG Paillis, be gentler, I advise,
Make up for time mis-spent, When Beauty on its death-bed lies,
'Tis high time to repent. Such is the malice of your fate,
That makes you old so soon;
How early e'er begun.
Whose stars contrive, in spite,
Her fading beauty's night.
You 'll peevishly be coy,
And never know the joy.
While on those lovely looks I gaze,
To see a wretch pursuing,
His pleasing happy ruin:
His fate is too aspiring,
Dies wishing and admiring,
Your slave from death remoring;
Or learn you mine of loving.
In love 'tis equal measure;
The vanquish'd die with pleasure.
What cruel pains Corinna takes,
To force that harmless frown;
Love cannot lose his own.