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The Surprise.

Careless of Love, and free from Fears,
I sate and gaz'd on Stella's Eyes,
Thinking my Reason or my Years
Might keep me safe from all surprize.
But Love, that hath been long despis'd,
And made the Baud to others trust,
Finding his Deity surpriz'd,
And chang'd into degenerate Lust,
So that too late (alas!) I find
No steeled Armour is of proof,
Nor can the best resolved mind
Resist her Beauty and her Youth.
Summon'd up all his strength and power,
Making her Face his Magazine,
Where Virtue's grace, and Beauty's flower
He plac'd his Godhead to redeem.
But yet the folly to untwist,
That loving I deserve no blame;
Were it not Atheisme to resist
Where Gods themselves conspire her flame.