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Love Verses.

Madam, I Own Impertinence a Crime,

And tax Prefumption tho' drefs'd up in Rhime: Yet by fome hidden Charm I'm blindly wrought To act the Thing, whilft I condemn the Thought; And as a Wretch who labours to disguise

Some dangerous Truth (which once declar'd) he dies,
Till thousand Eyes without, and Fears within
'Spite of his Art, unveils the guilty Scene;
So I whom Love a Criminal has made,
(By fate and you to the fweet guilt betray'd;)
Tho' dangers thick as Clouds around me wait,
Each urging in his turn my coming Fate,
Yet 'fpite of Abfence, Infamy, and all
The threatning Dangers that attend my fall;
'Spite of my felf, I muft my felf declare
And tell you, you are dangerously fair,

And Oh! that fuch a Truth fhould e're difpleafe
Which your own Bashful Vertues must confefs.
There was a time (but ah! Remembrance ftay,
Enjoyments paft fresh Torments ill repay)
When I officiously could ftand and gaze,
And traverle all the Wonders of that Face,
Saw where the treacherous Loves in Ambush lay
That feiz'd me, whilft I ftood to guard my way.
Yet ftill too weak that Paflion to oppose
Which (Vertue like) by Oppofition grows.
Too well I've learnt the undifputed Skill
Your Beauty Claims, or to preferve or kill:
Should then a captiv'd Heart prefume to add
One bleeding Trophy to the Spoils you've made,


Say charming Nymph, would you reject the Prize,
And fcorn the Inglorious Conqueft of your Eyes?
No! Nature's felf stands ready to oppose
That Thoughts (and mercy mixt with Beauty shows)
Creating Heav'n had elfe miftook its Care
To mould an excellence fo greatly fair
With fo much Art to wound, but none to spare.
Oh! had I never feen thofe fatal Charms
Unwounded then I'de 'fcap'd Love's feeble Arms
For who, when he had pafs'd one Storm before
Could e're have dream'd a Shipwreck on the Shore:
But fure fome God does in your Eyes perfwade
For Love in you's implicitely obey'd,
With undefigning Graces you entice,

And whilft you fhun the Conqueft meet the Prize!
Form'd with fuch vaft Advantages to pleafe,
Your Wit muft conquer, were your Beauty lefs;
Yet fair as the firft dawn of Infant Light
With Blushes Springing from the Womb of Night
Chaft as the Flame the Vestal Altar bears,
And modeft as the watchful Virgins Prayers.
So pure your Thoughts, your Soul fo near Divine,
That proftrate Saints might worship at your Shrine;
At leaft if in Perfection they'd appear,

Muft copy all the fhining Vertues there.
Such Charms, and fuch alone; my Breaft could move
And melt my stubborn Temper into Love.
Careless before as Sleep,as Fancy free

That in foft Dreams does flitting Shadows fee,
I view'd the Planets of the Court and Town,
My Heart unfmitten yet, and all my own.
The Theatre and Park did next engage
My Search, and the Mock Angels of the Stage.
Yet ftill I kept ny freedom from the Snare

Of the Tame Beauties here, or Wild Ones there;

With cold Regard I faw the gay Pageants pafs
Unmov'd by that black Eye, or this fair Face,
But fure our beft Refolves are Guards too weak,
The deftin'd Portions of our Fates to check!
For Nature whilft fhe keeps your Sex in View
In forming Man, the ftampt a Lover too;
Th'obedient Mould a double imprefs takes,
This Prints the Soul, that varies but the Sex,
Thus whilft her Chimick Hand the Work prepares,
The Gold great. Love is thine, the Drofs all hers,
And tho' one Heart more flow than t'other burns,
Yet all Men must be Lovers in their Turns,
Why then should I a fingle Stoick aim

To hide my Fires, when the whole World's in flame.
No! Since my Choice the Niceft Teft may brave
I'le hug the Chain-would you but own your Slave.
Sure,tho' I meet my Doom, of this Applause,
To fall Love's Martyr in the noblest Cause.


The Palace of Fame.

FULL in the midft of this created Space,
Betwixt Heav'n and Earth,and Skies,there ftands
(a Place
Confining on all three, with Triple Bound';
Whence all Things,tho' remote, are view'd around
And thither bring their undulating found,
The Palace of loud Fame! Her Seat of Pow'r,
Plac'd on the fummit of a Lofty Tow'r:
A thousand winding Entries, long and wide,
Receive of frefh Report a flowing Tide;
A thousand Crannies in the Walls are made,
Nor Gates, nor Bars, exclude the bufy Trade.

N 2


Tis built of Brafs, the better to diffuse
The fpreading Sounds, and multiply the News :
Where Echoes in repeated Echoes play:
A Mart for ever full, and open Night and Day:
Nor Silence is within, nor Voice exprefs,
But a deaf Noife of Sounds that never ceafe:
Confus'd, and chiding like the hollow Roar
Of Tides, receding from th' infulting Shore;
Or like the broken Thunder, heard from far,
When Jove at Distance drives the rolling War.
The Courts are fill'd with a tumultuous Din
Of Crowds, or iffuing forth, or entring in
A Thorough-Fare of News; where fome Devise
Things never Heard, fome mingle Truth with lies:
The troubled Air, with empty Sounds they beat,
Intent to hear, and eager to repeat.

Error fits Brooding there, with added Train
Of vain Credulity; and Joys as Vain :
Sufpicion, with Sedition joyn'd, are near;

And Rumours rais'd; and Murmurs mixt, and Pa

(nick Fear. Fame fits aloft, and fees the Subject Ground; And Seas about, and Skyes above, enquiring all around. Dryd. Ovid.



The Defcription of Fame.

"HERE is a tall long-fided Dame,
But wondrous Light, ycleped Fame,

That like a thin Camelion boards

Herself on Air; and eats her Words:
Upon her Shoulders Wings fhe wears
Like Hanging-Sleeves, lin'd thro' with Ears,


And Eyes, and Tongues, as Poets Lift,
Made good by deep Mythologift.

With these she through the Welkin flies,
And fometimes carries Truth, oft Lies;
With Letters hung like Eaftern Pigeons,
And Mercuries of fartheft Regions;
Diurnals writ for Regulation

Of Lying, to inform the Nation;
And by their publick Ufe to bring down
The rate of Whetstones in the Kingdom:
About her Neck a Pacquet-Male,
Fraught with Advice, fome frefh, fome ftale,
Of Men that walk'd when they were dead,
And Cons of Monsters brought to Bed;
Of Hailftones big as Pullers Eggs,
And Puppies whelp'd with twice two Legs;
A Blazing-Star feen in the West,

By Six or Seven Men at leaft:

Two Trumpets fhe does found at once,
But both of clean contrary Tones,
But whether both with the fame Wind,
Or one before, and one behind,
We know not, only this can tell,
The one founds vilely, th' other well;
And therefore Vulgar Authors Name:
The one Good, the other Evil Fame...




Sampson's Complaint on his Blindness.

Lofs of Sight, of thee I moft complain!
Blind among Enemies, Q worfe than Chains,


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