Tixall Poetry/Ephelia

by unknown author

Ephelia.

 

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How farre are they deceav'd, who hope in vaine,
A lasting lease of ioyes from love to obtaine!
All the dear sweets we promise, or expect,
After enioyment turn to cold neglect.
Could love a constant happiness have known,
The mighty wonder had in me bin shown.
Our passions were so favored by fate,
As if she meant them an eternall date.
So kind he lookt, such tender words he spoke,
'Twas past beliefe such vows should ere be broke.
Fixt on my eyes, how often would he say,
He could with pleasure gaze an age away.
When thoughts too great for words had made him mute,
In kisses he would tell my hand his sute.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$So feirse his passion was, so far above
The common gallantries that pass for love,
At worst, I thought, if he unkind should prove,
His ebbing passion would be kinder far,
Than the first transports of all others are.
Nor was my love weaker, or less than his,
In him I centred all my hopes of bliss.
For him my duty to my friends forgott
For him I lost,—alas! what lost I not?
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$How happy was I then, how dearly blest,
When this great man my panting heart possesst,
Looking such things as nere can be exprest!
Thousand fresh lookes he gave me every houre,
Whilst greedily I did his looks devour.
I was so highly happy in his love,
Methought, I pitied them that dwelt above.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Think then, thou greatest, loveliest, falsest man,
How you have vow'd, how IJiave lov'd, and then,
My faithless deare, bee cruell if you can.
How I have lov'd, I cannot, need not tell,
No, every act has shown I loved too well.
Since first I saw you, I nere had a thought
Was not entirely yours; to you I brought
My virgin innocence, and freely made
My love an offering to your noble bed.
Since when, you've bin the star by which I steer'd,
And nothing else but you I loved or fear'd.
Your smiles I onely live by, and I must,
When ere you frown, be shatter'd into dust.
Oh! can the coldness which you shew me now,
Sute with the generous heat you once did show?
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$I cannot live on pitty, or respect,
A thought so mean would my whole frame infect;
Less then your love, I scorn, sir, to expect.
Let me not live in dull indifferency,
But give me rage enough to let me dye.
For if from you I needs must meet my fate,
Before your pity I would chuse your hate.