Selected quad for the lemma: love_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
love_n	beauty_n	heart_n	see_v	2,957	5	3.2630	3	false

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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A70171	Miscellany poems upon several occasions consisting of original poems / by the late Duke of Buckingham, Mr. Cowly, Mr. Milton, Mr. Prior, Mrs. Behn, Mr. Tho. Brown, &c. ; and the translations from Horace, Persius, Petronius Arbiter, &c. ; with an essay upon satyr, by the famous M. Dacier.	Buckingham, George Villiers, Duke of, 1628-1687.; Cowley, Abraham, 1618-1667.; Milton, John, 1608-1674.; Behn, Aphra, 1640-1689.; Congreve, William, 1670-1729.; Dacier, André, 1651-1722.; Gildon, Charles, 1665-1724.	1692 (1692)	Wing G733A; ESTC R21564	36,779	146

Sex Being the first Copy of Verses made by a fair Lady who is since dead HAppy was I O Love when Innocent And knew not what thy lawless Power meant But since from Damon's Eyes thou 'st shot thy Dart Wing'd with his faithless Vows into my Heart Alas away my happy Hours are flown And I too plainly find I am undone For by his Prayers and numerous Oaths betray'd Too easie I thought all was true he said So piteously he look'd and sigh'd much more And with such wondrous feeling ardor swore But like the rest of his false perjur'd Kind He soon discover'd his base fickle Mind Wilst Young Enjoyment was all brisk and gay How often didst thou perjur'd Damon say That had Alcmena had such melting Charms The happy Thunderer ne'r had left her Arms But had prolong'd the pleasing blisful Night Till darken'd Mankind had forgot the Light But thou art false and therefore shouldst be scorn'd And not with fruitless Tears and Sorrows mourn'd But now my Scorn alas would please thee more Than all the Favours I bestow'd before Then let some other Pride thy Soul Torment And make thee feel what I too late repent The hopeless Pangs of a despairing Love And all the Racks the restless guilty prove Pet. Arbiter Qui Pelago credit magno se foenere tollit c. THe ventring Merchant in his mighty Gains Meets a Reward for his past Toil Pains The hardy Soldier who delights in Wars Ventures for Plunder whilst he ventures Scars The servile cringing Flatterer we see Triumphant in his purple Luxury The Cuckold-maker spends his Blood and Health In toilsome Pleasure to procure him Wealth Discarded Eloquence alone does wait Shivering with Cold and ragged out of Date And whilst admired Baseness upwards flies Worth unregarded and neglected Lyes A SONG By Henry Cromwel Esq I. A Beauteous Face fine Shape engaging Air With all the Graces that adorn the Fair If these cou'd fail their so accustom'd Parts And not secure the Conquest of our Hearts Sylvia has yet a vast reserve in store At Sight we love but hearing must adore II. There falls continual Musick from her Tongue The Wit of Sappho with her artful Song From Syrens thus we lose the Power to fly We listen to the Charm and stay to dy Ah! lovely Nymph I yield I am undone Your Voice has finisht what your Eyes begun Vpon the Art of Love a Book sent to a Lady By the same I. IS Sylvia then to learn the Art of Love Who with that Passion every Breast inspires What pity 't is she only should not prove What mighty Charms there are in soft Desires Let her pursue the Dictates of her Heart Nature 's a Mistress better far than Art II. But if by some unknown Indifference Her Eyes neglect the Conquests they have won And whilst all yield to Love without Defence Sylvia can be insensible alone Try then my little Book thy utmost Art To make the Passage easy to her Heart A SONG By the same I. HOw mortal Hate for what Offence For too much Love or Negligence The first who is it that denies The Fault of your Victorious Eyes As 't is of your severer Arms I pay no more my Tribute to your Charms II. Yet I in Silence still admire Have gaz'd till I have stole a Fire A mighty Crime in one you hate Yet who can see and shun the Fate Ah! let it then not mortal prove Not but I 'd die to shew how much I love The DECAY A SONG By W. C. I. SAy not Olinda I despise the faded Glories of your Face The languish'd Vigour of your Eyes and that once only lov'd Embrace II. In vain in vain my constant Heart on aged Wings attempts to meet With wonted speed those Flames you dart it faints and flutters at your feet III. I blame not your decay of Pow'r you may have pointed Beauties still Though me alas they wound no more You cannot hurt what cannot feel IV. On youthful Climes your Beams display There you may cherish with your Heat And rise the Sun to guild their Day To me benighted when you set A SONG By Mr. S I. NO more proud Woman boast Your Empire over Men For all your Pow'r now you have lost And they 're restor'd unto themselves again II. They plainly now discern Those Tricks and all those Arts With which your Face and Eyes you arm To Catch unguarded Hearts III. And rather than submit To such Deceits as these They 'l for a Mistress chuse a Man o'Wit Who better knows to please By the same I. THis proves Clymene what I said Our Hearts o' th' hardest Rocks were made Since mine unweary'd still has born Your killing Rigour and your Scorn Yet yours nothing could melt or move Not all my Tears nor all the force o'Love II. Long with my hourly Pains I strove Pains which I fear will endless prove Never more vainly to urge to you This Truth for my repose too true I am a Rock in Constancy As you are one in Cruelty SONG By Tho. Ch Esq I. LOve 's a Dream of mighty Treasure Which in Fancy we possess In the Folly lies the Pleasure Wisdom ever makes it less When we think by Passion heated We a Goddess have in Chase Like Ixion we are cheated And a gawdy Cloud embrace II. Only happy is the Lover Whom his Mistress well deceives Seeking nothing to discover He contented lives at ease But the Wretch that would be knowing What the fair one would disguise Labors for his own undoing Changing Happy to be wise SONG By the same I. LEt other Beauties boast in vain How they a Heart ensnare Which they by artful means obtain And but preserve with Care Whilst Cloe with restless Pow'r Does all Mankind subdue As are her Conquests ev'ry Hour So are her Charms still new II. Yet she for whom so many dye Neglecting does surprize As loath the utmost Force to try Of her victorious Eyes Her Influence she does moderate And some in Pity spare That Beauties of a Lower Rate May have a little Share The Message a SONG By W. C. GO thou unhappy Victim go Thou poor distracted Heart Oppress'd with all thy mighty woe Thy endless Love and Smart Go to Aminta tell thy Grief Go to Aminta beg Relief Pray to that Cruel Fair And let oh let her hear The various Cries of thy Despair In bleeding Wounds and trembling Fears In moving Sighs and melting Tears Pant to her Eyes and pierce her Ears Ah! sure she cannot see A Heart so clad in Misery And yet no Pity have Oh no she cannot sure she will In tender Mercy save Or else in rigid Mercy kill By Henry Cromwel Esq Martial Epigram De morte Festi lib. 1. epig. 67. Indignas premeret pestis cum tabida fauces c. NO sooner had the dire Disease began But o'r his Face the spreading Mischief ran Around him his lamenting Friends did ly All Eyes were bath'd in Tears but his were dry Firm

4th Eneid abut Verse 615. and had six Verses translated by Mr. Cowley BY a bold People's stubborn Arms opprest Forc'd to forsake the Land which he possest Torn from his dearest Son let him in vain Beg help and see his Friends unjustly slain Let him to bold unequal Terms submit In hopes to save his Crown yet lose both it And Life at once Untimely let him dye And on an open Stage unburied lye The Latine Verses AT bello audacis populi vexatus armis Finibus extorris complexu avulsus Iuli Auxilium imploret videatque indigna suorum Funera nec cum se sub leges pacis iniquae Tradiderit regno aut optata lace fruatur Sed cadat ante diem mediaque inhumatus arena The Deist's Plea answered by the Honourable Robert Boyle Esq. The Deist's Plea NAtural Religion easie first and Plain Tales made it Mystery Offerings made it gain Sacrifices and Feasts were at length prepar'd The Priests eat roast Meat and the People star'd The Christian's Plea NAtural Religion does indeed display The Duty of serving God but not the way Man of himself roving perverse and blind A Precipice sooner than that way would find What Worship God will like Himself must teach And so he did by those he sent to preach Who Doctrins worthy to be thought Divine Confirm'd by Miracles where his Power did shine Who by those Wonders Instances did give Of things as strange as they bid us believe Who promis'd endless Joys and Lives requir'd Worthy of those that to such Joys aspir'd Who what they taught so much believ'd and pris'd That for its sake they all things else despis'd And both by its strict Rules their Lives did guide And to attest its Truth most gladly dy'd And without Arms subdu'd the World save those Whom Vice not Wit engag'd clear Truths t' oppose Iulii Mazirini Cardinalis Epitaphium Authore Ioh. Milton HIC jacet Iulius Mazirinus Galliae Rex Italus Ecclesiae Praesul Laicus Europae praedo purpuratus Fortunam omnem ambiit omnem corrupit Aerarium administravit exhausit Civile bellum compressit sed commovit Regni jura tuitus est invasit Beneficia possedit vendidit Pacem dedit aliquando sed distulit Hostes cladibus cives oneribus afflixit Arrisit paucis irrisit plurimos Omnibus nocuit Negotiator in Templo Tyrannus in Regno Praedo in Ministerio Vulpes in Consilio Grassator in Bello Solus nobis in Pace Hostis. Fortunam olim adversam aut elusit aut vicit E nostro seculo vidimus Adorari fugitivum Imperare Civibus Exulem Regnare proscriptum Quid deinde egerit rogas Paucis accipe Lusit fefellit rapuit Ferreum nobis seculum induxit sibi ex auro nostro Aureum fecit Quorundam capiti nullius fortunis pepercit Homo crudeliter clemens Pluribus tandem morbis elanguit Plures ei mortes coelo irrogante Cui Senatus olim unam decreverat Vincenni se arcibus inclusit moriturus Id quidem apte Quaesivit carcerem Diu laedentem animam retinuit aegre reddidit Sic retinere omnia didicerat Nil sua sponte reddere Constanter tamen visurus est mori quid mirum Vt vixit sic obiit dissimulans Ne morbum quidem novere qui curabant Hac una fraude nobis profuit Fefellit Medicos Mortuus est tamen ni fallimur moriens Regem regno Regnum Regi restituit Reliquit Praesulibus pessima exempla Aulicis infida consilia Adoptivo amplissima spolia Paupertatem populis Successoribus suis omnes praedandi artes Sed praedam nullam Immensas tamen opes licet profuderit Id unum habuit ex suo quod daret Nomen suum Pectus ejus post mortem apertum est Tunc primum patuit vafrum cor Mazirini Quod nec precibus nec lacrymis nec injuriis moveretur Diu quaesivimus invenere medici Cor Lapideum Quod mortuus adhuc omnia moveat administret ne mireris Stipendia in hunc annum accepit Nec fraudat post Mortem bonae fidei Quo tandem evaserit forsitan rogas Coelum si rapitur tenet si datur meritis longe abest Sed abi Viator cave Nam hic Tumulus Est Specus Latronis In Vrbanum viii P. M. EST ne Papa Christianus Immo vero Christianissimus Estne verus Petri Successor Immo verissimus Quotiescunque enim Gallus Cantat Dominum abnegat EPITAPH upon Felton by his Grace the late D. of Buckingham HEre uninter'd suspends tho not to save Surviving Friends th'Expences of a Grave Felton's dead Earth which to the World must be His own sad Monument His Elegy As large as Fame but whether bad or good I say not by himself 't was writ in Blood Having his Body thus entomb'd in Air Arch'd ore with Heaven and set with many a fair And glorious Diamond-Star a Sepulchre Which Time can't ruinate and where The impartial Worm which is not brib'd to spare Princes when wrapt in Marble cannot share His Flesh which oft the charitable Skies Embalm with Tears doing those Obsequies Belong to Men until the pitying Fowl Contend to reach his Body to his Soul Upon a Lady's Singing PINDARICK ODE By Mr. CONGREVE I. LEt all be husht each softest Motion cease Be every loud tumultuous Thought at Peace And ev'ry ruder Gasp of Breath Be calm as in the Arms of Death And thou most fickle most uneasie Part Thou restless Wanderer my Heart Be still gently ah gently leave Thou busie idle thing to heave Stir not a Pulse and let my Blood That turbulent unruly Flood Be softly staid Let me be all but my Attention dead Go rest y'unnecessary Springs of Life Leave your officious Toil and Strife For I would hear this Voice and try If it be possible to dye II. Come all ye Love-sick Maids and wounded Swains And listen to her Healing Strains A wondrous Balm between her Lips she wears Of Sov'reign Force to soften Cares 'T is piercing as your Thoughts and melting as your Tears And this through ev'ry Ear she does impart By tuneful Breath diffus'd to ev'ry Heart Swiftly the gentle Charmer Flies And to the tender Grief soft Air applies Which warbling Mystick Sounds Cements the bleeding Panter's Wounds But ah beware of clam'rous Moan Let no unpleasing Murmur or harsh Groan Your slighted Loves declare Your very tend'rest moving Sighs forbear For even they will be too boistrous here Hither let nought but Sacred Silence come And let all sawcy Praise be dumb III. And lo Silence himself is here Methinks I see the Midnight God appear In all his downy Pomp aray'd Behold the rev'rend Shade An ancient Sigh he sits upon Whose Memory of Sound is long since gone And purposely annihilated for his Throne Beneath two soft transparent Clouds do meet In which he seems to sink his softer Feet A melancholy Thought condens'd to Air Stol'n from a Lover in Despair Like a thin Mantle serves to wrap In Fluid Folds his visionary Shape A wreath of

To Lovers thus the happy Night alone For a whole Age of Torments might attone After a Day of Eating which might vie With the Lord Mayors or Shreeval Luxury See where a Drove of envious wishing Freinds Around thy Bed the Bower of Bliss Attends Each squinting Gallant prays thy Place were his And by Delays excel the coming Blyss Sack-posset then while each green Virgin throws Prophetic Stocken at thy patient Nose Sack-posset still and when they that remove Next enter the sweet Sillabub of LOVE Soft Music then thy Laziness must chide And give a fair Excuse to leave the Bride Not wooing Puss can louder Songs compose Nor more diversity of Airs than those Harmonious City-Music such a Bliss 'T were worth the while to marry but for this Nor must you think the Joys should end so soon There 's yet a live-long-heavenly-hony-moon In Wedlocks pleasing Team with equal Law Thy courteous Yoke-fellow must ever draw While Pictures of thy kind laborious Bride Shall still run softly bellowing by thy Side Courtine Since my fair Pack so wondrously does please Thy Shoulders lend and be an Hercules I feel a Load a heavy Hell above For the expected gaudy Heaven of Love How thin would you those Tinsel Pleasures find With which sly jilting Nature bribes Mankind SATED FRVITION does the Bliss destroy And the next Moment knows not the Tumultuous Ioy. Who can reflect without just Rage and Fright And deep regret on such a mean Delight Ye Gods if these Loves highest Banquets be Brutes can love more and better far than we This knew sly Iove who when he left the Skies Chose rather any other Beast's Disguise The Bull nay th'improportionable Swan Much more the lusty Ass can rival Man Who all their Pleasure in Possession find Without the curst Allay and Sting behind As Nature prompts promiscuously they rove And hunt free Ioys through ev'ry Field and grove But in a Pound what Brute wou'd e'n make Love Man Man alone is damn'd to grinding still And in the Prison of his Cage must Bill Like a blind Stallion ever drudges on And gets new Slaves for Wives to ride upon Night-mar'd like me whom gastly Sights persue And scare with her lean Ghost whom once I knew That Sylvia's now no more who big with Charms Dropt a whole Dow'r of Charms within your Arms Loose hangs the Flower lately so fresh and gay And every Tempest bears new Leaves away Unlovely now it flags and overblown And ev'ry Grace and ev'ry Charm is gone Her Tenderness is fond and awkward grows And all her Female Art affected shews True Hag all o're Ugly she grows and old And knowing this turns Jealous and a Scold Fletcher's Wife-tamer durst not dare to love her Xantippe was a Patient Grizel to her Each Look each Step I tread's by her survey'd She haunts me like my Conscience or my shade Expects t' a Statue I should constant prove And daily damns my unperforming Love When e'r for Quiets-sake she hooks me in What Mummy looks so dreadful as her Face Heavens how she ruffles in her Buckrum Skin And frights my Soul away from the Imbrace So when from Gibbets and the Common-shore Th'Officious Devil has pimp'd and brought his Friend a Whore So shrieks the Wretch when he next Morn has spy'd A ghastly Carcass rotting by his Side Just such a Lot is mine I drudg my Life Worse than with Legion far possess'd with WIFE Wou'd Fate and Hell some higher ill provide And club for any other Plague beside I soon should easy and contented grow In spight of Bolts above and Flames below No such luxurious Ease I ask in vain And like poor Adam must alive remain Whom vengeful Fate did to curs'd Woman chain In Judgment gave him an unkind Reprieve And damn'd him to ten thousand Hells in Eve Vpon the D. of Buckingham's Retirement By Madam Wharton Jan. 1683. IF darkest Shades could cloud so bright a Mind Or universal Knowledg be confin'd Then should I fear what vainly you persue Exiling the offending World from you Permit this Phrase for their 's the loss would be To you 't were Gain of Ease and Liberty For them alas what is 't I would not fear If banished the rich World of Learning here Within your Breast where Knowledg is retir'd By vain Pursuits and false Explainers tir'd Others bring dazling Light and leave us more Opprest with Blindness than we were before But gently by degrees like dawning Day The Mists that cloud the Mind you drive away If you retire what Damps of black Despair Must cloud the World no longer made your Care Who could alas deep Mysteries unfold Who could Instruct the Young or Chear the Old Who could like you in lively Colours paint Death's gastly Face to each expiring Saint 'T is you and only you can paint him fair To those who Life Pleasure make their Care 'T is you make Ease less lovely seem than Pain 'T is you bring Heaven down to dying Men And raise the drooping Minds to Heaven again You chose Heaven's Saints for still the mounting Soul Is crown'd above whom you on Earth enrol Quit not the World because that Monarch's Brow So smooth to all seems clouded o'r to you His Anger like the Wrath of Heaven is slow And all his Actions his Compassion shew Unjustice never can his Temper sute Love gentle Love is his blest Attribute A Soul enclin'd to such a peaceful Charm No fear of Danger could his Soul alarm Plot upon Plot intended or devis'd He smil'd to see look'd over and despis'd When every Subject at his Danger shook His Thoughts flow'd easily as a Summers Brook He pardon'd still and when unruly they Forc'd him the Sword of Justice to display Unwillingly he punish'd to obey I say t' obey for might he still command Garlands of Peace would grow within his Hand Then Love and Wit in which he does excel With Peace and Plenty here would ever dwell But now alas he rules a giddy Crowd Who slight their Joys and tell their Grief aloud As fond of Troubles as he is of Peace So factious Slaves and constant Foes to ease Still forcing Fears unnatural and base At home distracted and abroad despis'd The Grief of Fools and laughter of the Wise. But hold too far I have mistook my way I would return and yet what can I say The Subject is so vast to which I 'm brought That I am lost in the Abyss of Thought I would persuade and yet I know not how To make that Theam to my weak Numbers bow Exalt my humble Notions to your height I 'll plainly tell my Thoughts raise you their Flight Leave not the World but near that Monarch rest Who all that 's just still harbours in his Breast And when that Head so fill'd with boundless Thought To his enlarged Heart is nearer brought What Wonders may we not expect should spring From such a Subject and from such a King To Damon the most Inconstant and Faithless of his

in his Soul he was and well resolv'd to die Yet does he mean inglorious ways disdain By Famin scorns to linger out in Pain Or with vile poisonous Dregs his manly Visage stain But as he ever Honour's Course did run In Death to finish what his Life begun With Roman Courage did his Fate obey Which ever led to Death the noblest way By falling thus he has acquir'd a Name Out-vying Cato's in the List of Fame For fear of Caesar forc'd to such an end But thus he dy'd and yet was Caesar's Friend A CATCH I. LET the Woman be damn'd a moderate Fate Or dye an old Maid as grey as a Cat That her Lover refuses for want of Estate II. Let her that sets Man like a Beast to be sold And above mettle'd Flesh loves a Lump of dead Gold Look green when she 's young and be poxt when she 's old III. But let those that are wise contemn the dull Store Wives chose by their Weight will be weighty no more If for Gold they will wed for the same they will whore A Letter from Hen. Cr. Esq. to Tho. Ch. Esq. For Women and against Wine MY lovely Ch that takes Delight To spend the silent Hours of Night With sparkling Wine and sprightly Jest And hates the lazy Thoughts of Rest Unbending then with ease thy Cares When drudging Cit to Shop repairs Of thy weak Friend some Pity take Who has not learnt the Art to wake Unskill'd in offring at the Shrine Of thy dear Jovial God of Wine Let him enjoy his little Punk Be Clapt for Sin but not be drunk The Wretch that runs at ev'ry Whore Is often poxt but can't give o're May well be thought a Slave to Passion But yet he acts by Inclination And Pleasures in one Moment gains To countervail an Age of Pains Why should I by your Method live Against my Genius vainly strive This ev'n common Sense destroys This the wise Eunuch well disproves Is 't fit that I who know no Joys Should die ye Gods because she loves Let Venus be at distance drawn To make the nauseous Draught go down As when I drank for red-hair'd Wench Substantial Bowles of lusty Punch Or was there Interest in the Case It might go down without Grimace As lusty Stallion who for Hire Oblig'd to quench some Awker'd Fire Forces himself against Desire And robs from Nature to supply her No more will I pursue your Fashion Nor ever drink by Obligation But seek a softer Recreation Thus though a different way we move Your Passion Wine mine for Love Yet may we as we change our Sphere Like the Twin-Gods meet once a Year An Answer to the foregoing Letter by Tho. Ch. Esq. for Wine WHen lately with some special Friends For Fops and Fools to make amends In Bow-street at a certain House We drank a notable Carouse And whilst Mirth and good Humor lasted The Nights in Joys sublime we wasted Against good Wine cou'd I imagine That you a Satyr wou'd engage in Good Wine that raises us above The most transporting Thoughts of Love Inspires us with great Wit and Sense When Love does ever drain from thence When by indulging over Night Much Wine has cloid the Appetite Next Day a Bumper will restore Correct the Faults o' th Day before But by Experience taught I find It ne'r was so with Womankind Yet Sir I am not in defyance With the soft Sex but in compliance Wou'd kindly take Commiseration On her that had for me a Passion But like a Beau to fawn and wait Is that of all Things that I hate I use a Woman at my Leisure Not make a Business of a Pleasure But you whom Female Chains can fetter I never heard was treated better Or may be of an Amorous League You cannot bear the grand fatigue Something of that I am afraid I 'll tell you what the World has said My Dear it 's credibly reported You want strong Vigor when you sport it In vain you say soft things and tender When 't is a stiff thing that must bend her But yours is such a modest Devil It is afraid to be uncivil And when she wishes for the Blessing You idly stand and praise her Dressing The pretty Cornets on her Head When you should throw her on the Bed The fancied Colours of a Knot When you should be upon the Spot Then with her Fan perhaps you play When you should cool her t'other way These are the Reasons as I ghess That makes you have such ill Success But if by chance you have the Fortune To win the Lady you importune 'T is one you pick up at Hypolito's Whom for a Month or two you follow close And though enjoy'd by half the Town Keeps you at Distance with a Frown Till by persuasive Presents gain'd The mighty Victory 's obtain'd And when you think your self most happy 'T is ten to one the Jade will Clap you Successively my Pleasures move From Love to Wine from Wine to Love Kindly each other they relieve And Change does double Pleasure give Then against Wine be not inveterate Because the other you are better at But use them both and the Delight Will prove your Friend is in the Right A SONG By Henry Cromwel Esq. I. NO no I ne'r shall love thee less For all thy fierce Disdain So fast thy blooming Charms increase Thy sparkling Eyes my Heart oppress Each Glance renews my Pain II. Yet must I Fate like busie Flies Still to thy Brightness turn Pursue thee with my restless Eyes Till as each flaming Blush does rise Insensibly I burn An Invitation to the Musick Meeting By the same I. REturn ah charming Nymphs return To your once-lov'd forsaken Plains Let us no more your Absence mourn But soon resume our pleasing Strains O'r all our useless Instruments unstrung No more your shining Beauties shall be sung II. Come all ye Shepheards to our Groves 'T is here a Glance with ease imparts To the fair Object of your Loves The moving Stories of your Hearts Our Songs and Strings shall favour the Design And every Breast to Tenderness incline VERSES by Madam Behn never before printed On a CONVENTICLE BEhold that Race whence England's Woes proceed The Viper's Nest where all our Mischiefs breed There guided by Inspiration Treason speaks And through the Holy Bag-pipe Legion squeaks The Nation 's Curse Religion's ridicule The Rabble's God the Politicians Tool Scorn of the Wise and Scandal of the Just The Villain 's Refuge and the Womens Lust. VERSES design'd by Mrs. A. Behn to be sent to a fair Lady that desir'd she would absent herself to cure her Love Left unfinish'd IN vain to Woods and Deserts I retire To shun the lovely Charmer I admire Where the soft Breezes do but fann my Fire In vain in Grotto's dark unseen I lie Love pierces where the Sun could never spy No place no Art his Godhead can exclude The Dear Distemper reigns in Solitude Distance alas contributes to my Grief No more

of what fond Lovers call Relief Than to the wounded Hind does sudden Flight From the chast Goddesses pursuing Sight When in the Heart the fatal Shaft remains And darts the Venom through our bleeding Veins If I resolve no longer to submit My self a wretched Conquest to your Wit More swift than fleeting Shades ten thousand Charms From your bright Eyes that Rebel Thought disarms The more I strugl'd to my Grief I found My self in Cupid's Chains more surely bound Like Birds in Nets the more I strive I find My self the faster in the Snare confin'd VENUS and CUPID VENVS CVpid my darling Cupid and my Joy Thy Mother Venus calls come away come away CVPID Alas I cannot I am at Play VENVS Fond Boy I do command thee haste Thy precious Hours no longer waste In Groves and Cottages you make abode Too mean a Condescention for a God! On barren Mountains idly play For shame thou Wanton come away come away All useless lies thy Bow and Darts That should be wounding heedless Hearts The Swain that guards his Drove Alas no Leisure has for Love His Flocks and Heards are all his Joy Then leave the Shades and come away come away CVPID Alas what would you have me do Command and I 'll Obedience shew VENVS Hye then to Cities and to Court Where all the Young and Fair resort There try thy Power let fly thy Darts And bring me in some noble Hearts Worthy to be by thee undone For here 's no Glory to be won CVPID Mistaken Queen look down and see What Trophies are prepar'd for thee What glorious Slaves are destin'd me VENVS Now by my self a Noble Throng How Fair the Nymphs the Swains how Young No wonder if my little Loves Delight and play in Shades and Groves CVPID Then Mother here I 'll bend my Bow And bring you wounded Hearts enough VENVS My pretty Charming Wanton do Chorus 'T is thus we over Mortals reign And thus we adoration gain From the proud Monarch to the humble Swain The Old Man's Complaint By Mr. Wells AH pity Love where e'r it grows See how in me it overflows In dripping Eyes and dropping Nose So strange a thing is seldom seen My Age is dull my Love is keen Above I 'm grey but elswhere green Aloof perhaps I court and prate But something near I would be at Tho' I 'm so old I scarce know what The Maid's Answer For Shame your Green-wood Fires then smother You drop at one End burn at t'other You 'd have a Wife to spoil a Mother I pity much your Eyes o'rflowing But sure the World must needs be going When Rheums and Rottenness run a woeing Then let Age make you cease your chat And since you have forgot what 's what Old Rats love Cheese go construe that Vpon MARRIAGE An Epigram By Dr. N. UNhappy State to thee poor Man does owe The loss of Innocence and Being too Marriage alone brought in the Tempter Eve It was the Serpent Woman did deceive The Mischief still continues she began For every Woman is an Eve to Man A SONG By Mr. J. S. of the Middle Temple ALL Thoughts of Freedom are too late Not any new fair Lady's Art Nor both the India's Wealth nor Fate Itself can disengage my Heart Not which kind Heaven forbid your Hate And that which follows proud Disdain My Passion could at all abate But only make it last with Pain Thus all my Quiet does depend On Hopes t' obtain a Smile from you That so my Love that knows no end May last with equal Pleasure too To SYLVIA a SONG By C. G. I. SYlvia could your Eyes but see The Wounds your killing Beauties give A Lover you might read in me Who if you frown disdains to live II. But oh the Artless fair ones know No more than Tongues or Eyes persuade Tongues that deceive and Eyes that shew Too often Love an Art is made III. For a sincere and tender Passion Ah! how severe and hard a Fate That Faith 's not known from Oaths for fashion Nor naked Truth from gay Deceit IV. Soft as your balmy Breath's my Flame When strugling Love breaks out in Sighs Immortal as I 'll make your Name And as bewitching as your Eyes V. But hold fond Swain Ah! tell no more For Heav'n and the heav'nly fair Their Favours on the Happy show'r Leaving the Wretch still to Despair To SYLVIA the Meeting By the same I. GOds when we meet how dull was I My Tongue that us'd to move So glibly on the Theme of Love Now when 't was real lay motionless and still Nor wou'd it to fair Sylvia tell The eager Pangs and Torments of my Mind But like a false deceitful Friend Officious in my Sun shine Day Profering his Service and his Coin When he was here I wanted none But when I needed most he prov'd most shy Leaving me Speechless when I 'd most to say My very Fancy and my Thoughts were flown So wholly was I lost in unexpected Joy II. All extream Joy in Silence reigns As Grief when in excess A fluent Tale proves either less The lighter Wounds of Fortune are made known In formal Words and mournful Tone But when she deeper strikes her Dart 'T is mute and festers in the Heart So lesser Joy is noisy brisk and gay Flows in full Tides of Laugh and Talk Admits no silent Check or Balk But when so great as mine the Sense it chains Imperfect Words a Sigh a soft Caress A trembling Body and a ravish'd Kiss Was all the wondrous Language of m'unruly Joy III. Ah! if your only Presence give Such elevated Bliss What Raptures and what Extasies Have you bright Sylvia yet in store For the blest Man you love Too mighty sure for Man's frail Sense to bear Or to enjoy and live If but a gentle Touch such Transports move What must Divine Fruition prove Encircl'd in those tender Arms Dissolving with those melting Charms And oh on that soft panting Bosome lye Sylvia that Death grant Heaven and you I dye The beginning of the First Satyr of Persius imitated The Prologue to Dr. M dly 'T Is true nor is it worth denial My Verse has never yet stood Tryal Of Poetick-Smiths that meet still At Vrwin Toms or Vrwin Will 's For thus Sir Modern Revolution Has split the Wits t' avoid Confusion And set up Brother against Brother That they mayn't clapper-claw each other That I should think my self a Poet And vainly dare in Print to shew it I who have never pass'd as yet The Test of the mis-judging Pit Nor i th' Galleries tickl'd Crowd 'Till they have clap'd and laugh'd aloud Nor from the tender Boxes e'r Yet have drawn one pitying Tear Nor with Sir Courtly Roundelays Have made to garnish out new Plays Nor Virgil's great majestick Lines Melted into enervate Rhimes Nor witty Horace e'r did venture To burlesque into modern Banter Nor gentle Ovid e'r did force To zounds a River for a Horse Nor sharp Iuvenal's stronger Verse Perverted

into Dogrel Farce Nor ever durst as yet presume To venture on a meer Lampoon Nor in short few Words being best Ne'r yet could make a bawdy Jest. I 'll tell you then since you 'l needs know it Why I set up now for a Poet 'T is not for what most of Vs write To fill my Purse or shew my Wit But purely out of Affection To fill up my Friend's Collection Therefore sweet Sir in haste adieu t' ye For I 'll adjourn now to my Duty The beginning of the First Satyr of Persius imitated Poet. OH the prepostrous Cares of Human kind Which in each Action and each Wish we find Friend Prithee that Cant give o'r or who will read You preach as solemnly as 't were your Trade P. Speak you to me F. To thee sayst yes egad Why surely Iack thou 'rt absolutely mad For none will on such formal Verses look But damn the Author and despise the Book P. None say you Sir F. Or one or two at most And is 't not hard t o've All your Labour lost To have your Works on Bulks all dusty lye And all your Thoughts for want of Readers dye Your precious Lines serv'd up to Nocks or Pye P. Mistake not Friend I chase not empty Fame Nor write to please the Town or get a Name Let the Vain Herd of noisy Wits and Beaux To whom they please their worthless Praise dispose It ne'r one Moment shall break my Repose Or what care I if th'undiscerning Town Prefer dull A to me or Perter Br n Let his tagg'd Nonsense t'others Wilds of Wit With Cits and Boys still fond Applauses get But you my Friend steer a securer Course And by the common Judgment ne'r form yours Most Men by publick Vogue condemn or praise And never weigh the Merits of the Cause Let not that balance you to either Side By Wisdom's Nobler Rule your Sentence guide Oh! that I could spight of my beardless Youth With a prevailing Force now urge the Truth Fr. Stay but a while till Reverend Age comes on Thy fleeting Years of Youth will soon be gone Then will grey Hairs on all thou say'st print Aw Authority with all thy Precepts go A dictatorial Youth does Envy draw Tho' from his Pen the noblest Truths do flow P. Oh! that 's too long I must before that Time Lash the vile Town with my Satyric Rhime F. That must not be pray take a Friend's Advice P. Prithee no more indeed thou' rt over-nice I can no longer hold nor silent see Such numerous Pamphlets on each quarter fly Some in Prose and some in mightier Verse Which each will daily to his Friends rehearse Here a Pert Sot with six Months Pains brings forth A strange mishapen and ridiculous Birth A glimps of Human Stamp it has the rest Is Serpent Fish and Bird but larger Beast In that odd Monster Horace once design'd We may some Method and some meaning find Tho' diffring Parts yet distinct Parts it had Tail of Fish Horses Neck a Human Head Nor Head nor Tail nor any Part is here Through the whole Lump no certain Forms appear 'T is Chaos all Mark how the jarring Seed Of ill agreeing things perpetual Discord breed Together huddled now this now that prevails HOT Simile now now COLD Winters Tales More pondrous GHESS with lighter BANTER meets With clashing Fury each the other greets MOIST spreading Scandal with DRY Dulness fights But oh 't requires this Mortal Strife to end A stronger Judgment a diviner Mind Than his for whatsoe'r the World may think Pudding's his Food and drowsy Mum his drink For read his Trifles and scarce in one Line You 'll find him guilty of the least Design By the thick Fogs which from his Diet rise His Sense is smother'd and his Judgment dyes Well has he then the seven Sleepers grac'd By yearly Sacrifice and annual Feast For sure his Studies are but Sleep at best And all the Town must needs be in a Dream When such wild Ramblings got him some poor Fame But quitting now this poor Prose Pamphleteer To mightier Verse I must my Vessel steer But here the Chiming Fops so numerous grow And in such various Follies dress'd they go 'T would be an endless Task to lash'em all And now I find my Muse grows something dull F. Enough for one time sure is one such Fool. On Affairs abroad and K. William's Expedition By Mr. Durfey CHurch-Scruples and Jars Plunge all Europe in Wars English Caesar espouses our Quarrel Predestin'd to stand Against Lewis le Grand And wear his now flourishing Laurel The Cause that is best Now comes to the Test For Heav'n will no longer stand neuter But pronounce the grand Doom For old Luther or Rome And prevent all our Doubts for the future 'T would turn a wise Brain To consider what Pain Fools take to become Politicians Fops Bullies and Cits All set up for Wits And ingeniously hatch new Divisions Some shew their hot Zeal For a new Common Weal And some for a new Restauration Thus we cavil and brawl Till the Monsieur gets all And best proves the Wit of the Nation Though we Medcines apply Yet the Fever swells high First caused by a Catholick Riot Which no Cure can gain Till the breathing a Vein Corrects the mad Pulse into quiet Yet what e'r disease on our Country may chance Let 's drink to its healing condition And rather wish Will. were Victor in France Than Lewis were England's Physician On my Lord Fairfax By the late Duke of Buckingham EPITAPH Vnder this Stone doth lye One born for Victory ELEGY FAirfax the valiant and the only he Who e'r for that alone a Conqueror would be Both Sexes Vertues were in him combin'd He had the fierceness of the manliest Mind And all the meekness too of Womankind He never knew what Envy was or Hate His Soul was fill'd with Worth and Honesty And with another thing besides quite out of date Call'd Modesty He ne'r seem'd impudent but in the Field a place Where Impudence it self dares seldom shew its Face Had any Stranger Spied him in a Room With some of those whom he had overcome And had not heard their Talk but only seen Their Gesture and their Meen They would have swore he had the vanquish'd been For as they brag'd and dreadful would appear Whilst they their own ill luck in war repeated His Modesty still made him blush to hear How often he had them defeated II. Through his whole Life the part he bore Was wonderful and great And yet it so appear'd in nothing more Than in his private last Retreat For 't is a stranger thing to find One Man of such a glorious Mind As can despise the Power he hath got Than Millions of those Polls and Braves Those despicable Fools and Knaves Who such a poother make Through Dulness and Mistake In seeking after Power and get it not III. When all the Nation he had won And with Expence of Blood had bought Store great enough he thought Of Fame and of Renown He then his Arms laid down With full as little Pride As if he had been on the Enemies Side He neither Wealth nor Places sought For others not himself he fought He was content to know For he had found it so That when he pleas'd to conquer he was able And left the Spoil and Plunder to the Rabble IV. He might have been a King But that he understood How much it is a meaner thing To be unjustly Great than honourably Good This from the World did Admiration draw And from his Friends both Love and Awe Remembring what he did in Fight before Nay his Foes lov'd him too As they were bound to do Because he was resolv'd to fight no more So blest of all he dy'd but far more blest were we If we were sure to live till we could see A Man so great in War in Peace so just as he FINIS