 | Poems, Songs and Love-Verses |  |
16
A Song.
I will not tell her that she's fair,
For that she knows as well as I,
And that her Virtues equal are
Unto the Glorys of her Eye.
For that she knows as well as I,
And that her Virtues equal are
Unto the Glorys of her Eye.
And that I love her well, she knows,
For who can view that Heavenly Face,
Not paying that Respect he owes
To Beauty, bearing such a Grace?
For who can view that Heavenly Face,
Not paying that Respect he owes
To Beauty, bearing such a Grace?
But this I'le tell, and tell her true,
She takes upon her too much State;
For, by the Gods, it would undo
A King to Love at such a rate.
She takes upon her too much State;
For, by the Gods, it would undo
A King to Love at such a rate.
Let Common Beauties boast the Power
Of some uncommon Excellence,
And thank Dame Nature for the Dower
Of that decoying Charming Sense;
Of some uncommon Excellence,
And thank Dame Nature for the Dower
Of that decoying Charming Sense;
Adorn themselves with Pearls and Gold,
In Rubies and Rich Di'monds shine,
In choicest Silks that may be sold,
And all to make such Ladies Fine.
In Rubies and Rich Di'monds shine,
In choicest Silks that may be sold,
And all to make such Ladies Fine.
17
These are like some Rich Monument,
Rais'd all of carv'd and costly Stones,
Painted and Gilt for Ornament;
But full within of dead Mens Bones.
Rais'd all of carv'd and costly Stones,
Painted and Gilt for Ornament;
But full within of dead Mens Bones.
Such common ways my Clelia scorns,
Her lovely Soul is too sublime,
She's not compleat that Cloaths adorn,
Or does in ought but Nature shine.
Her lovely Soul is too sublime,
She's not compleat that Cloaths adorn,
Or does in ought but Nature shine.
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