G

MY FATE.

O bid the needle his dear North forfake,

To which with trembling reverence it does bend; Go bid the ftones a journey upwards make;

Go bid th' ambitious fiame no more afcend: And, when these false to their old motions prove, Then fhall I cease thee, thee alone, to love.

The faft-link'd chain of everlasting Fate

Does nothing tie more ftrong than me to you;
My fixt love hangs not on your love or hate,
But will be ftill the fame, whate'er you do :
You cannot kill my love with your difdain;
Wound it you may, and make it live in pain.
Me, mine example, let the Stoicks use,

Their fad and cruel doctrine to maintain;
Let all predeftinators me produce,

Who ftruggle with eternal bonds in vain :
This fire I 'm born to-but 'tis fhe muft tell,
Whether 't be beams of heaven or flames of hell..

You who men's fortunes in their faces read,

To find out mine, look not, alas ! on me;
But mark her face, and all the features heed
For only there is writ my destiny:
Or, if stars fhew it, gaze not on the skies ;
But study the astrology of her eyes,

If thou find there kind and propitious rays,

What Mars or Saturn threaten I'll not fear; I well believe the fate of mortal days

Is writ in heaven; but oh, my heaven is there. What can men learn from stars they fcarce can fee? Two great lights rule the world, and her two me.

I

THE HEART-BREAKING.

T

gave a piteous groan, and so it broke ;
In vain it fomething would have spoke :
The love within too ftrong for 't was,
Like poifon put into a Venice-glafs.

I thought that this fome remedy might prove;
But oh, the mighty ferpent Love,

Cut by this chance in pieces fmall,
In all ftill liv'd, and ftill it ftung in all.

And now, alas ! each little broken part
Feels the whole pain of all my heart;
And every smallest corner ftill

Lives with that torment which the whole did kill.

Even so rude armies, when the field they quit,

And into feveral quarters get;

Each troop does spoil and ruin more
Than all join'd in one body did before.

How many Loves reign in my bofom now!
How many loves, yet all of you!
U 3

Thus

Thus have I chang'd with evil fate My Monarch-Love into a Tyrant-State.

THE

THOU

USURPATION.

HOU 'adft to my foul no title or pretence ;
I was mine own, and free,

Till I had given myself to thee ;

But thou haft kept me flave and prifoner fince.
Well, fince fo infolent thou 'rt grown,
Fond tyrant! I'll depofe thee from thy throne;
Such outrages must not admitted be

In an elective monarchy.

Part of

my heart by gift did to thee fall;
My country, kindred, and my best
Acquaintance, were to fhare the reft;

But thou, their covetous neighbour, drav'st out all ₫
Nay more; thou mak'ft me worship thee,
And would't the rule of my religion be:
Did ever tyrant claim fuch power as you,
To be both emperor and pope too?

The public miferies, and my private fate,
Deferve fome tears; but greedy thou
(Infatiate maid!) wilt not allow

That I one drop from thee fhould alienate :
Nor wilt thou grant my fins a part,

Though the fole cause of most of them thou art;

Counting my tears thy tribute and thy due,

Since first mine eyes I gave to you.

Thou

Thou all my joys and all my hopes doft claim;
Thou ragest like a fire in me,

Converting all things into thee;

Nought can refift, or not encrease the flame :
Nay, every grief and every fear

Thou dost devour, unless thy ftamp it bear :
Thy prefence, like the crowned bafilifk's breath,
All other ferpents puts to death.

As men in hell are from difeafes free,
So from all other ills am I;

Free from their known formality:
But all pains eminently lie in thee !
Alas, alas! I hope in vain

My conquer'd foul from out thine hands to gain ; :
Since all the natives there thou 'aft overthrown,
And planted garrifons of thine own.

T

MAIDENHEA D..

Hou worst eftate ev'n of the fex that 's worst
Therefore by Nature made at first

T'attend the weakness of our birth!
Slight outward curtain to the nuptial bed!
Thou cafe to buildings not yet finished !

Who, like the centre of the earth, Doft heaviest things attract to thee,, Though thou a point imaginary be!

A thing God thought for mankind so unfit,
That his first bleffing ruin'd it.

Cold, frozen nurse of fierceft fires!
Who, like the parched plains of Afric's fand
(A fterile, and a wild unlovely land!)

Art always fcorch'd with hot defires,

Yet barren quite, didst thou not bring Monsters and ferpents forth thyself to sting!

Thou that bewitchest men, whilft thou dost dwell Like a clofe conjurer in his cell,

And fear't the day's difcovering eye! No wonder 'tis at all that thou thould't be Such tedious and unpleasant company, Who liv'ft fo melancholily!

Thou thing of fubtile, flippery kind, Which women lofe, and yet no man can find!

Although I think thou never found wilt be,
Yet I 'm refolv'd to fearch for thee;

The fearch itself rewards the pains:
So, though the chemick his great secret miss
(For neither it in Art nor Nature is)

Yet things well worth his toil he gains;

And does his charge and labour pay
With good unfought experiments by the way.

Say what thou wilt, chastity is no more

Thee, than a porter is his door.