Tixall Poetry.
217
Such joyes as these require a hart
In which no other love hath part.
Ah! who would prise his liberty,
(This faint, weak pleasure, to be free,)
Deare as those wounds which love can give?
Those bonds in which his servants live?—
Who, tost in wandring, loose desire,
Vary their love, disperse their fire;
Ayme at no more but to repeate
The thirst of sence, and quench that heate.
Let my collected passion rise,
All, and to one a sacrifice.
I feare not her discerning breast
Should bee with other love imprest,
Be to the proud resigned a prey,
Or to the loud, or to the gay.
Why should distorted nature prove
More lovely then my humble love?
What taught the elder times success
In love, but humbleness?
The nymphes resigned their virgin feares
To nothing but the shepherd's tears.
In which no other love hath part.
Ah! who would prise his liberty,
(This faint, weak pleasure, to be free,)
Deare as those wounds which love can give?
Those bonds in which his servants live?—
Who, tost in wandring, loose desire,
Vary their love, disperse their fire;
Ayme at no more but to repeate
The thirst of sence, and quench that heate.
Let my collected passion rise,
All, and to one a sacrifice.
I feare not her discerning breast
Should bee with other love imprest,
Be to the proud resigned a prey,
Or to the loud, or to the gay.
Why should distorted nature prove
More lovely then my humble love?
What taught the elder times success
In love, but humbleness?
The nymphes resigned their virgin feares
To nothing but the shepherd's tears.
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