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The RECOVERY.

SIGH

VIGHING and languishing I lay,

A stranger grown to all delight, Passing with tedious thoughts the day,

And with unquiet dreams the night.

For your dear fake, my only care
Was how

my

fatal love to hide; For ever drooping with despair,

Neglecting all the world beside :

Till, like some angel from above,

CORNELIA came to my relief; And then I found the joys of love

Can make amends for all the grief.

Those pleasing hopes I now pursue,

Might fail, if you could prove unjuft ; But promises from heav'n and you,

Who is so impious to mistrust?

Here all my doubts and troubles end;
One tender word

my

soul assures; Nor am I vain, since I depend

Not on my own desert, but yours.

The CONVERT.

DE

EJECTED, as true converts die,

But yet with fervent thoughts inflam’d, So, fairest! at your feet I lie,

Of all my fex's faults alham'd.

Too long, alas ! have I abus'd

Love's innocent and facred dame, And that divinest pow'r have us’d

To laugh at, as an idle name.

But since so freely I confess

A crime which may your scorn produce, Allow me now to make it less

By any just and fair excufe.

I then did vulgar joys pursue,

Variety was all my bliss ; But ignorant of love and you,

How could I chufe but do amiss?

If ever now my wandring eyes

Seek out amusements as before ; If e'er I look, but to despise

Such charms, and value yours the more;

May sad remorse, and guilty shame,

Revenge your wrongs on faithless me; And, what Wremble ev'n to name,

May I lose all in losing thee.

The PICTURE.

In Imitation of ANACREON.

T

HOU flatterer of all the fair,

Come with all your skill and care;
Draw me such a shape and face,
As your flatt'ry would disgrace.
Wish not that she would appear;
'Tis well for you she is not here;
Scarce can you with safety see
All her charms describ'd by me:
I, alas! the danger know;
I, alas! have felt the blow;
Mourn, as loft, my former days,
That never sung of CELIA's praise;
And those few that are behind
I shall blest or wretched find,
Only just as she is kind.

With her tempting eyes begin,
Eyes that would draw angels in
To a second, sweeter sin.
Oh, those wanton rolling eyes!
At each glance a lover dies:
Make them bright, yet make them willing;
Let them look both kind and killing.

Next, draw her forehead; then her nose,
And lips just op'ning, that disclose
Teeth so bright, and breath so sweet,
So much beauty, fo much wit,

} }

That if you,

To our very soul they strike,
All our senses pleas'd alike.

But so pure a white and red,
Never, never, can be said:
What are words in such a case?
What is paint to such a face?
How should either art avail us ?
Fancy here itself must fail us.

In her looks, and in her mien, Such a graceful air is seen,

with all

your art, Can but reach the smallest part; Next to her, the matchless she, We shall wonder molt at thee.

Then her neck, and breasts, and hair, And her—but my charming fair Does in a thousand things excel, Which I must not, dare not tell.

How go on then? oh! I fee, A lovely VENUS drawn by thee; Oh how fair she does appear ! Touch it only here and there. Make her yet feem more divine, Your Venus then may look like mine, Whose bright form if once you saw, You by her would Venus draw.

On Don Alonzo's being killed in Portugal,

upon account of the INFANTA, in the Year 1683.

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IN

N such a cause no muse should fail

To bear a mournful part; 'Tis just and noble to bewail

The fate of fall'n defert.

In vain ambitious hopes design'd

To make his soul aspire,
If love and beauty had not join'd

To raise a brighter fire.

Amidst so many dang'rous foes
How weak the wisest

prove

e ! Reason itself would scarce oppose,

And seems agreed with love.

If from the glorious height he falls,

He greatly daring dies;
Or mounting where bright beauty calls,

An empire is the prize.

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