Nets, of passion's finest thread, Then, beware! for those that cure Love's disease, themselves endure Rather let the lover pine, Than his pale cheek should assign BOLDNESS IN LOVE. MARK how the bashful morn in vain But, when the planet of the day So shalt thou thrive in love, fond boy! But, when with moving accents, thou With open ears, and with unfolded arms. UNGRATEFUL BEAUTY THREATENED. KNOW, Celia (since thou art so proud) 'Twas I that gave thee thy renown; Thou hadst, in the forgotten crowd Of common beauties, liv'd unknown, Had not my verse exhal'd thy name, And with it impt the wings of fame. That killing power is none of thine, Thou art my star, shin'st in my skies: Then dart not from thy borrow'd sphere Lightning on him that fix'd thee there. Tempt me with such affrights no more, Let fools thy mystic forms adore, I'll know thee in thy mortal state. Wise poets, that wrapp'd truth in tales, SONG. To one, who, when I praised my Mistress' beauty, said I was blind. WONDER not though I am blind, Dark in your eyes, or in your mind, Her face, you prove not blind, like me! And those amorous sweets that lie Then, you'll confess your mortal sight SONG. Ask me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose; For, in your beauty's orient deep, These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. Ask me no more whither do stray Ask me no more, whither doth haste Ask me no more where those stars light That downwards fall in dead of night; For in your eyes they sit, and there Fixed become as in their sphere. Ask me no more, if east or west DIALOGUE. [From a MS. in the possession of Mr. Malone.] TELL me, Utrechia, since my fate, And thy more powerful form, decrees My heart an immolation at thy shrine, How I must love, and at what rate; By what despairs, and what degrees, I may my hopes enlarge, or my desires confine? "First, when thy flames begin, "See they burn all within; "And so, as lookers-on may not descry "Smoke in a sigh, or sparkles in an eye. "I would have had my love a good while there, "Ere thine own heart had been aware: "And I myself would chuse to know it, "First, by thy care and cunning not to show it." When my love is, your own way, thus betray'd, Must it still be afraid? May it not be sharp-sighted then, as well, And see, you know, that which it durst not tell, |