Amanda A Sacrifice To an Unknown Goddesse, or, A Free-Will Offering Of a loving Heart to a Sweet-Heart. By N. H. [i.e. Nicholas Hookes] |
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To his Honoured friend the Author upon his Amanda. |
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To his Honoured friend the Author upon his Amanda.
Whoe're shall ask what these rude lines do here,
Tell him Amanda may black patches weare,
Faire Amanda, whom if I name, my heart,
As if I'd sinn'd in naming, feels the smart
Of hers, not Cupids arrow, Reader please
To turn the leafe, thou'll catch the same disease,
We're all in love (Dear Sir) who e're you see,
Know it, he is or will your rival be;
The world's grown love-sick, and may seem to prove,
Your wit hath been injurious to your love.
There's none shall read Amanda, but ev'ry line,
(Heavens!) ten thousand worlds that she were mine!
She's sure too good to be enjoy'd (but I)
Oh that I might but see her once, and die!
Is't not some goddesse [that having long desir'd]
At length hath stoll'n from Heav'n to be admir'd?
To love her 'tis presumption, wish I cou'd
That I were better, she not quite so good:
Tell him Amanda may black patches weare,
Faire Amanda, whom if I name, my heart,
As if I'd sinn'd in naming, feels the smart
Of hers, not Cupids arrow, Reader please
To turn the leafe, thou'll catch the same disease,
We're all in love (Dear Sir) who e're you see,
Know it, he is or will your rival be;
The world's grown love-sick, and may seem to prove,
Your wit hath been injurious to your love.
(Heavens!) ten thousand worlds that she were mine!
She's sure too good to be enjoy'd (but I)
Oh that I might but see her once, and die!
Is't not some goddesse [that having long desir'd]
At length hath stoll'n from Heav'n to be admir'd?
To love her 'tis presumption, wish I cou'd
That I were better, she not quite so good:
Go boy, go sleep, Cupid unbend thy bowe,
Break all thy darts, thou'st lost thy trading, go,
Turn Physician, if again thou'dst be
A heart-wounder, study Loves remedie.
Break all thy darts, thou'st lost thy trading, go,
Turn Physician, if again thou'dst be
A heart-wounder, study Loves remedie.
What meant you, Sir, to set the land on fire?
Some wish, some hope, some envie, some desire;
I pray the gods (let me not pray in vain)
Enjoy your love, and put us out of pain;
Amanda deserves the best, 'tis as true,
There's none deserves Amanda's love but you.
Some wish, some hope, some envie, some desire;
I pray the gods (let me not pray in vain)
Enjoy your love, and put us out of pain;
Amanda deserves the best, 'tis as true,
There's none deserves Amanda's love but you.
But let her still retain her name, that all
May her Amanda, you Amandus call.
May her Amanda, you Amandus call.
THO. ADAMS. Trin. Coll. D.
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