ODE XXV.
[My Dear Pudora, though the greedie Flame]
1
My Dear Pudora, though the greedie Flame
Has Swallowed all the Inke
Which I (the weake Adorer of thy name)
Once lavisht out; yet thinke
A second Store,
Tooke from thy Graces, may to better Light
Celebrate thee; I am not ban'rupt Qvite;
And were I poore
To the Extreame of Ignorance, that Fire
Still liveing in your Eyes, would Heat inspire.
2
Doe not, oh doe not, (Goddes of my Muse)
Thinke I have lost that Zeale
My former Qvill profest; nor thinke I chuse
Of lower Things to tell;
Forbid it, all
My better Fate! noe, rather may I pine
In my owne Ioy,—my verse,—if my designe
Did ever fall
Vnto another obiect; but I still
Steer'd by your Eyes; Starrs to direct my Qvill.
3
Nor blame some looser Sheets, if (when I lackt
Your Light) my verse might Stray
From the precise Path, which your Steps had track't;
I cannot, dare not Say;
But I have gone
Sometimes aside; yet take, in leiu of All
My follies, this Acknowledgment; 'tis small
The wrong I ha' done;
Pardon, where I Nicotiana Sung;
And I dare say, I never did you wrong.
4
For though, in Silvia, I my selfe might please;
'Twas but at once to bring,
Vnder that name, a double Species;
And where I loudest Sing,
With all my Praise,
To honour Her, I but derive a Sparke
From your more radiant Flame, which is the marke
Of all my Bayes;
But Shee, revolted like her Selfe, can claime
Nothing in all my Poesie but Name.
5
This may Suffice; Great Rectres of my Thought,
Daigne once againe to smile
On my Endeavours; and I will not doubt
To vindicate our Ile
From all the blast
Of Envie or Detraction; I will raise
Huge Monuments of wonder, manye-wayes;
Which shall outlast
The rage of Time, and stand the Boast of Fame;
My verse Eternized, in Pudorae's name.
