That welcome hour that ends this smart, Will then begin your pain; For such a faithful tender heart Can never break in vain. [SIR JOHN SUCKLING.] I PRITHEE send me back my heart, Since I cannot have thine : For if from yours you will not part, Yet, now I think on't, let it lie, Why should two hearts in one breast lie, If thus our breasts thou sever? But Love is such a mystery, I cannot find it out: For when I think I'm best resolv'd, I then am most in doubt.. Then farewell care, and farewell woe, For I'll believe I have her heart, My [PARNELL.] y days have been so wond'rous free, The little birds that fly, With careless ease from tree to tree, Ask gliding waters, if a tear Of mine encreas'd their stream? Or ask the flying gales, if e'er I lent a sigh to them. But now my former days retire, The tender chains of sweet desire Are fix'd upon my thought. An eager hope within my breast Ye nightingales, ye twisting pines, Ye swains that haunt the grove, Ye gentle echoes, breezy winds, Ye close retreats of Love; With all of nature, all of art, O teach a young unpractis'd heart The very thought of change I hate, As much as of despair, And hardly covet to be great Unless it be for her. 'Tis true, the passion in my mind Is mix'd with soft distress; Yet while the fair I love is kind, I cannot wish at less. 1 [GARRICK.] Ir truth can fix thy wav'ring heart, F Let Damon urge his claim, He feels the passion void of art, Though sighing swains their torments tell, Possession cures the wounded heart, By age your beauty will decay, Your mind improves with years; As when the blossoms fade away, The rip'ning fruit appears. May heaven and Sylvia grant my suit, That Damon, who can taste the fruit, TH [AKENSIDE.] H E shape and face let others prize, I look for spirit in her eyes, A damask cheek, and ivory arm, A soul where awful honour shines Where sense and sweetness move; Where angel-innocence refines The tenderness of love : These are the soul of beauty's frame, Without whose vital aid, Unfinish'd, all the features seem, And all the roses dead, But ah! when all these charms unite, And graces ever new; |