Matthew Prior. Poems on Several Occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

Prior, Matthew (1664-1721)

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While from our Looks, fair Nymph, You guess
The secret Passions of our Mind;
My heavy Eyes, You say, confess
A Heart to Love and Grief inclin'd.

There needs, alas! but little Art,
To have this fatal Secret found:
With the same Ease You threw the Dart,
'Tis certain, You may show the Wound.

How can I see You, and not love;
While You as op'ning East are fair?
While cold as Northern Blasts You prove;
How can I love, and not despair?

The Wretch in double Fetters bound
Your Potent Mercy may release:
Soon, if my Love but once were crown'd,
Fair Prophetess, my Grief would cease.