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On Reading Mr. Waller's Poems.

Nhuman Sachariffa! not to love

The Man,whofe Verfe would Rocks to pity move: E'er fince Amphion fung, they Senfe retain, And Verfe may foften all Things but Difdain. As him the pointed Lightning of your Eyes, Me the bright Beauties of his Wit furprize; In vain like him I figh, in vain I mourn, For Waller's Mufe has Sacharifla's Scorn.


Written in a Lady's Waller.

Aller, whofe happy Genius could improve The various Arts of Praife and Power of Love, Who tender Thoughts cou'd in foft Verfe declare, Soft as the Words of parting Lovers are; Eafy, yet ftrong, as the delightful Chain By which Clarinda does my Soul detairi Be kind thou matchlefs Poet, and infpire Still as he reads, her Breaft with equal Fire Warm her to Love, to pity her incline, And fit the Motions of her Soul to mine. Show her how Scorn her Beauty will deface, Weaken her Charms, and blemish every Grace. Show her how bright kind Amoret is, how fair, So much her Mind does influence her Air: Then tell her how I love, and tell her fo, That she may feel the Pains I undergo.


Feeling may Pity, pitying may restore,
And call her Goodness in, against her Power,
Could mighty Poet thy fuccefsful, Art,
Could it prevail o're her obdurate Heart,
And work Confent, I'd ftrait thy Glory raife,
And worship pay, where now I only praife.
This were a Conqueft worthy more Renown,
Than had you haughty Sacharifa won.
Hear kind Clarinda, what I bid him do;
But rather let me owe your Love to you
Forgive me that him my Agent made,
And for believing you unkind, upbraid.


To Amoret,

FAir, that you may truly know.

What you unto Thirfis 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 ftruck,
While I on the other Look.

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

Do not only grieve, but die.

All that of my felf is mine,
Lovely Amoret, is thine;


Sachariffa's Captive fain

Would untie his Iron Chain;
And thofe fcorching Beams to fhun,
To thy gentle Shadow run.

If the Soul had free Election,
To difpofe of her Affection,
I wou'd not thus long have born
Haughty Sacharia's Scorn:
But 'tis fure fome Pow'r above,
Which controuls our Wills in Love;
If not Love, a ftrong Defire
To create and fpread that Fire,
In my Breaft, Sollicites me,
Beauteous Amoret, for thee.

'Tis Amazement more than Love, Which her radiant Eyes do move; If lefs Splendor wait on thine, Yet they fo benignly fhine, I wou'd turn my dazled Sight To behold their milder Light.

But as hard 'tis to destroy
That high Flame, as to enjoy,
Which, how eas'ly I may do,
Heav'n (as eas'ly fcal'd) does know.

Amoretis as fweet and good,
As the most delicious Food,
Which but tafted, does impart
Life and Gladness to the Heart:
Sachariffais Beauty's Wine,
Which to Madness doth incline;
Such a Liquor as no Brain
That is Mortal, can sustain.


Scarce can I to Heav'n excufe
The Devotion which I use
Unto that adored Dame


For 'tis not unlike the fame,
Which I thither ought to fend;
So that if it could take end,
'Twou'd to Heav'n it felf be due,
To fucceed her, and not you,
Who already have of me
All that's not Idolatry;

Which, tho' not fo fierce a Flame,
Is longer like to be the fame.

Then fmile on me, and I will prove
Wonder is fhorter liv'd, than Love.



On the Friendship betwixt two Ladies.

TELL me, lovely loving Pair,

Why fo kind, and fo fevere?
Why fo careless of our Care,
Only to your felves fo dear?
By this cunning, change of Hearts,
You the Power of Love controul;
While the Boy's deluded Darts
Can arrive at neither Soul.
For in vain to either Breaft,
Still beguiled Love does come
Where he finds a foreign Gueft,
Neither of your Hearts at home.
Debtors thus with like Defign,
When they never mean to pay;
That they may the Law decline,

fome Friend make all away.


Not the Silver Doves that fly,
Yoak'd in Citharea's Car;
Not the Wings that lift fo high,
And convey her Son fo far,
Are fo lovely, fweet, and fair,
Or do more ennoble Love;
Are fo choicely match'd a Pair,
Or with more Confent do move..



Natural Philofophy.

IN all'her Mazes, Natures Face they view'd,
And as the difappear'd, their Search purfu'd.
Wrapt in the Shades of Night, the Goddess lies,
Yet to the Learn'd unveils her dark Difguife,
But fhuns the grofs Access of vulgar Eyes.
Now the unfolds the faint, and dawning Strife
Of Infant-Atoms kindling into Life,
How ductile Matter new Meanders takes,
And flender Trains of twifting Fibres makes:
And how the viscous feeks a clofer Tone,
By just Degrees to harden into Bone;

While the more loofe flow from the vital Urn,
And in full Tides of purple Streams return;
How lambent Flames from Life's bright Lamp arife,
And dart in Emanations thro' the Eyes;
How from each Sluice a gentle Torrent pours,
To flake a feav'rifh Heat with ambient Show'rs.
Whence, their Mechanick Pow'rs, the Spirits claim,
How great their Force, how delicate their Frante
How the fame Nerves are fashion'd to fustain
The greatest Pleasure, and the greatest Pain.

K 2.


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