![]() | Poems on Several Occasions | ![]() |
The Separation.
I
I ghess'd none wretched in his love,But who his Mistress's scorn did prove,
Nor judg'd him happy, but whose fire
Was paid with mutual desire:
347
In both extreams there dwells
A destiny, which so malignant is
To make Man wretched in his greatest bliss.
II
The brightest Beauty I adore,That consecrated Earth e're bore,
The sweetest Person, fairest Mind,
That ever met in Woman-kind;
And (which afflicts me) am
Met with an equal flame:
For, had she hated me, her scorn might have
Condemn'd my Infant-love to its blest Grave.
III
But such 'tis nourisht by her grace,As Time, nor Objects can deface,
To such a faith, as cannot be
Compell'd from its Integrity.
But oh, th' unwelcome cause,
Of superstitious Laws!
That us, from our mutual Embraces tear,
And separates our bloods, because too near.
![]() | Poems on Several Occasions | ![]() |