LOOK S, or Mien. See Beauty. Eyes.
'The King arofe with awful Grace;
Deep Thought was in his Breaft, andCounfel in his Face.Dryd. Deep on his Front, engraven,
Deliberation fate, and publick Care,
And princely Counfel in his Face yet shone.
Big was he made, and tall; his Port was fierce ;
Erect his Countenance: Manly Majefty
Sate in his Front, and darted from his Eyes,
Commanding all he view'd.
His awful Prefence did the Croud furprize,
Nor durft the rafh Spectators meet his Eyes,
Eyes that confefs'd him born to kingly Sway,
So fierce they flash'd intolerable Day.
Dryd. Pal. & Arc. The Trojan Chief appear'd in open Sight, Auguft in Vifage, and ferenely bright:
His Mother-Goddefs, with her Hands Divine,
Had form'd his curling Locks, and made his Temples fhine;
Had given his rolling Eyes a fparkling Grace,
And breath'd a youthful Vigour on his Face;
Like polish'd Iv'ry, beauteous to behold,
Or Parian Marble, when enchas'd in Gold. Dryd. Virg.
Amid the Prefs appears the beauteous Boy:
His lovely Face unarm'd; his Head was bare;
In Ringlets, o'er his Shoulders, hung his Hair;
His Forehead circled with a Diadem.
Diftinguish'd from the Croud, he fhines, a Gem
Enchas'd in Gold; or polifh'd Iv'ry, fet
Amidst the meaner Foil of fable Jet.
Wrath checks the Beauty, and fheds manly Grace;
Both in his Looks fo join'd, that they might move
Fear ev'n in Friends, and from an En'my Love.
Hot as ripe Noon, fweet as the blooming Day.
What's he, who, with contracted Brow,
And fullen Port, glooms downwards with his Eyes;
At once regardless of his Chains or Liberty ?
He fhuns my Kindness;
And, with a haughty Mien, and ftern Civility,
Dumbly declines all Office: If he speak,
'Tis fcarce above a Word; as he were born Alone to do, and did difdain to talk,
At least to talk where he must not command. Cong. Mourn
That gloomy Outfide, like a rufty Cheft,
Contains the fhining Treasure of a Soul
Dryd. Don. Seb.
He looks fecure of Death: Superior Greatnels;
Like Jove, when he made Fate, and faid, Thou art
The Slave of my Creation.
He looks, as Man was made, with Face erect,
That fcorns, his brittle Corps, and feems afham'd
He's not all Spirit: his Eyes, with a dumb Pride,
Accufing Fortune, that he fell not warm;
Yet now difdains to live.
His fierce Demeanour, and erected Look,
Another Soul; your Looks are more divine;
You speak a Hero, and you move a God. Dryd. All for Love.
Care fat on his faded Cheek; but under Brows
Qf dauntless Courage, and confid❜rate Pride,
Waiting Revenge. Cruel his Eye, but caft
Signs of Remorfe and Paffion
Severe in youthful beauty added Grace
Loud as the Roar encount'ring Armies yield,
When fhouting Millions shake the thund'ring Field. Popes
LOVE. See Abfence. Enjoyment.
Love, the moft gen'rous Paffion of the Mind,
The fofteft Refuge Innocence can find:
The fafe Director of unguided Youth,
Fraught with kind Wishes, and secur'd by Truth; :
The cordial Drop Heav'n in our Cup has thrown,
To make the naufeous Draught of Life go downs.
On which one only Bleffing God might raise,
In Lands of Atheists, Subfidies of Praise;
For none did e'er fo dull and ftupid prove,
But felt a God, and blefs'd his Pow'r in. Love.
Love rais'd his noble Thoughts to brave Atchievements:
For Love's the Steel that strikes upon the Flint;
Gives Coldness Heat, exerts the hidden Flame, (LoveTriump.
And fpreads the Sparkles round, to warm the World. Dryd.
Love, that does all that's noble here below. Dryd. Don. Seb.
For Love's not always of a vicious Kind,
But oft to virtuous Acts inflames the Mind;
Awakes the fleepy Vigour of the Soul;
And, brufhing o'er, adds Motion to the Pool.
Love, ftudious how to pleafe, improves our Parts
With polish'd Manners, and adorns with Arts.
Love first invented Verfe, and form'd the Rhyme,
The Motion measur'd, harmoniz'd the Chime:
To lib'ral Arts enlarg'd the Narrow-foul'd, (Ipb.
Soften'd the Fierce, and made the Coward bold. Dryd. Cym.
Ye niggard Gods! you make our Lives too long;
You fill them with Difeafes, Wants, and Woes;
And only dash them with a little Love,
Sprinkled by Fits, and with a fparing Hand. Dryd. Amph.
Life without Love, is Load," and Time stands still:
What we refuse to him, to Death we give;
(Bride And then, then only, when we love, we live. Cong. Mourn. Love's an heroick Paffion, which can find
No Room in any bafe degen'rate Mind:
It kindles all the Soul with Honour's Fire,
To make the Lover worthy his Defire. Dryd. Cong. of Gran.
Love is not Sin, but where 'tis finful Love;
Mine is a Flame fo holy and fo clear,
That the white Taper leaves no Soot behind,
No Smoke of Luft.
Dryd. Don. Seb.
What art thou, Love, thou great mysterious Thing?
From what hid Stock does thy ftrange Nature fpring?
'Tis thou that mov'ft the World thro' ev'ry Part,
And hold'st the vaft Frame faft, that nothing start
From the due Place and Office first ordain'd:
By thee were all Things made, and are fuftain'd.
In Earth, and Seas, and Air, and Heav'n above,
Rules, unrefifted, with an awful Nod;
By daily Miracles declar'd a God:
He blinds the Wife, gives Eye-fight to the Blind, ( Arc
And moulds and ftamps a-new the Lover's Mind. Dryd. Pal. :
No Law is made for Love:
Law is to Things which to free Choice relate;
Love is not in our Choice, but in our Fate.
Laws are but pofitive; Love's Pow'r we fee
Is Nature's Sanction, and her first Decree.
Each Day we break the Bond of human Laws,
For Love, and vindicate the common Cause.
Laws for Defence of civil Right are plac'd;
Love throws the Fences down, and makes a gen'ral Wafte.
Maids, Widows, Wives, without Diftinction,fall; (Pal. Arc.
The sweeping Deluge, Love, comes on, and covers all. Dryd.
In Hell, and Earth, and Seas, and Heav'n above,
Love conquers all; and we muft yield to Love. Dryd. Virg.
For Love the Senfe of Right and Wrong confounds;
Strong Love, and proud Ambition have no Bounds. Dryd.
The Faults of Love, by Love are justify'd:
With unrefifted Might the Monarch reigns,
He raifes Mountains, and he levels Plains. Dryd. Sig.&Guife..
Kings fight for Kingdoms, Madmen for Applaufe;
But Love for Love alone, that 'crowns the Lover's Caufe.
Dryd. Pal. & Arc.
Love gives Efteem, and then he gives Defert;
He either finds Equality or makes it;
Like Death, he knows no Diff'rence in Degrees,
But plains and levels all.
By Heav'n, I'll tell her boldly that 'tis fhe:
Why should the afham'd, or angry be,
To be belov'd by me?
The Gods may give their Altars o'er;
They'll fmoak, but feldom any more,
If none but happy Men muft them adore.
The Light'ning, which tall Caks oppofe in vain,
To ftrike fometimes does not disdain
The humble Furzes of the Plain.
She being fo high, and I fo low,
Her Pow'r by this does greater fhow,
Who, at fuch Diftance, gives fo fure a Blow.
If there be Man who thinks himself so high
As to pretend Equality,
He deferves her lefs than I;
For he would cheat for his Relief;
And one would give, with leffer Grief,
T'an undeferving Beggar than a Thief.
I knew 'twas Madness to declare this Truth,
And yet 'twere Baseness to deny my Love.
'Tis true, my Hopes are vanishing as Clouds,
Lighter than Children's Bubbles blown by Winds:
My Merit but the rash Result of Chance,
My Birth unequal: All the Stars against me;
Pow'r, Promife, Choice, the Living and the Dead;
Mankind my Foes, and only Love to friend me:
But fuch a Love, kept at fuch awful Distance,
As what it loudly dares to tell, a Rival
Shall fear to whisper there. Queens may be lov'd,
And fo may Gods; elfe why are Altars rais'd?
Why fhines the Sun, but that he may be view'd?
But oh! when he's too bright, if then we gaze. (Span. Fry.
'Tis but to weep, and clofe our Eyes in Darkness.
Love various Minds does variously inspire;
He ftirs in gentle Natures gentle Fire,
Like that of Incenfe on the Altars laid;
But raging Flames tempeftuous Souls invade;
A Fire which ev'ry windy Paffion blows.
(Tyr. Lov.
With Pride it mounts, and with Revenge it glows. Dryd.
So like the Chances are of Love and War,
That they alone in this diftinguish'd are:
In Love the Victors from the Vanquish'd fly;
They fly that wound, and they purfue that die.
The Fate of Love is fuch,
That ftill it fees too little or too much.
Dryd. Ind. Emp. The Proverb holds, That to be wife, and love,
Is hardly granted to the Gods above.
A gen'ral Doom on all Mankind is pafs'd,
And all are Fools and Lovers firft or laft.
This both by others and myfelf I know,
For I have ferv'd their Sov'reign long ago;
Oft have been caught within the winding Train
Of female Snares, and felt the Lover's Pain;
And learn'd how far the God can human Hearts constrain.
Dryd. Pal. & Arc.
Love is the pleasant Frenzy of the Mind;
And frantick Men, in their mad Actions, fhow
A Happiness that none but Madmen know.
Love is that Madness which all Lovers have;
But yet 'tis fweet and pleafing fo to rave:
'Tis an Enchantment where the Reafon's bound;
But Paradife is in th' enchanted Ground;
A Palace void of Envy, Cares, and Strife,
Where gentle Hours delude fo much of Life;
To take thofe Charms, away, and fet me free,
Is but to fend me into Mifery;
And Prudence, of whofe Care you so much boaft, (Gran.
Reftores the Pains which that fweet Folly loft. Dryd. Cong.of
I have no Reafon left that can affift me,
And none would have. My Love's a noble Madness
Which fhews the Caufe deferves it. Mod'rate Sorrow
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