But love is such a mystery, I cannot find it out; For when I think I'm best resolv'd, Then, farewell care! and farewell woe! I will no longer pine; For I'll believe I have her heart, As much as she has mine. BOUNDLESS LOVE: WHEN, DEAREST! I but think of thee, Still present with us, though unsighted. Thus, whilst I sit and sigh the day, Thus absence dies; and dying, proves The waving sea can with each flood TO A LOVER. WHY so pale and wan, fond Lover? Will, when looking well can't move her Pr'ythee why so pale! Why so dull and mute, young Sinner, Will, when speaking well can't win her, Pr'ythee why so mute? Quit, quit for shame! this will not move, This cannot take her; If of herself she will not love, Nothing can make her :- TO LUCASTA, ON HIS GOING TO THE WARS. TELL me not, Sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind True, a new mistress now I chase, And with a stronger faith embrace Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, Dear! so much, JEALOUS LOVE. My dear Mistress has a heart Soft as those kind looks she gave me, When with love's resistless dart, And her eyes, she did enslave me : But her constancy's so weak, She's so wild and apt to wander, That my jealous heart would break, Should we live one day asunder. Melting joys about her move, Killing pleasures, wounding blisses; She can dress her eyes in love, And her lips can warm with kisses. Angels listen if she speak, She's my delight, all mankind's wonder; But my jealous heart would break, Should we live one day asunder. UNREQUITED LOVE. How hardly I conceal'd my tears, Told me I lov'd in vain! But now my joys as wild are grown, I tell it to the bleating flocks, To every stream and tree, And bless the hollow-murmuring rocks For echoing back to me. Thus you may see with how much joy HOPEFUL LOVE. ONLY tell her that I love, Leave the rest to Her and Fate; Some kind planet, from above, May perhaps her pity move; Lovers on their stars must wait: Only tell her, that I love! Why, oh, why should I despair? LOVE AND GRIEF. WHILE from our looks, fair Nymph, you guess My heavy eyes, you say, confess There needs, alas! but little art To have this fatal secret found; With the same ease you threw the dart, 'Tis certain you can show 'the wound. How can I see you, and not love, While you as opening east are fair? While cold as northern blasts you prove, How can I love, and not despair? The wretch, in double fetters bound, LOVE SLIGHTED. IN vain you tell your parting Lover, Be gentle, and in pity choose TO MYRA, PREPAR'D to rail, resolv'd to part; With the last glance, a little kind, Such wond'rous power have Myra's charms, She calms my doubts, enslaves my mind, And all my rage disarms. |