[ADDISON.] My love was fickle once and changing, 'Twas first a charming shape enslav'd me, But now a long and lasting anguish Nor hope to find the wonted cure. For here the false inconstant lover [SEDLEY.] NOT, Celia, that I juster am, Or truer than the rest; For I would change each hour like them, Were it my interest. But I'm so fix'd alone to thee By every thought I have, That should you now my heart set free 'Twould be again your slave. All that in woman is ador'd In thy dear self I find; For the whole sex can but afford Not to my virtue, but thy power When change itself can give no more [ETHERIDGE.] Ir is not, Celia, in our power To say how long our love will last; be we within this hour It may May lose the joys we now do taste : The blessed that immortal be From change of love are only free. Then since we mortal lovers are, Ask not how long our love will last ; But while it does, let us take care Each minute be with pleasure past: Were it not madness to deny To live, because we're sure to die? [LYTTELTON.] SAY, Myra, why is gentle love A stranger to that mind, Which pity and eşteem can move; Which can be just and kind? Is it because you fear to share Alas! by some degree of woe We every bliss must gain : The heart can ne'er a transport know, That never feels a pain. [CONGREVE.] CYNTHIA frowns whene'er I woo her, Much she fears I should undo her, Thus in doubting she refuses, Pr'ythee, Cynthia, look behind you, Age and wrinkles will o'ertake you, Then too late desire will find you When the power does forsake you. Think, oh! think, the sad condition To be past, yet wish fruition. [CONGREVE.] LOVE's but the frailty of the mind When 'tis not with ambition join'd; A sickly flame, which if not fed, expires, And feeding, wastes in self-consuming fires. "Tis not to wound a wanton boy, Or amorous youth, that gives the joy; But 'tis the glory to have pierc'd a swain For whom inferior beauties sigh'd in vain. Then I alone the conquest prize, If there's delight in love, 'tis when I see [CONGREVE.] FAIR Amoret is gone astray, Pursue and seek her, every lover; I'll tell the signs by which you may The wand'ring shepherdess discover. |