ODE XXIV.
[It is Enough to me]
1
It is Enough to me,
If I her Face may see;
Let others boast her Favours, and pretend
Huge Interests; whilst I
Adore her Modestie;
Which Tongves cannot deprave, nor Swords defend.
2
For could She ffall,
To what we call
Censure; how weake and vulgar were her Fame!
Not Ignorance would hold
Till his long Tale were told;
Though scarcelie he has ever heard her Name.
3
If wee might read
Her truly Charactred:
It were enough, Error to vindicate,
To warme the Stupid wretch,
(Who onlie lives to stretch
His frozen nerves) with Rapture, 'bove his Fate.
4
But while I bring
My verse to Sing
Her Glories, I am strucke with wonder, more;
And all the Formes I see,
But Emptie Shadowes bee,
Of that Perfection which I adore.
5
Be silent then,
All Tongves of Men,
To Celebrate the Sex; for if you fall
To other Faces, you
Wander, and but pursue
Inferior obiects, weake and partiall.