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Amasia, or, The Works of the Muses

A Collection of Poems. In Three Volumes. By Mr John Hopkins

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To Amasia, holding a Burning-Glass in her Hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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51

To Amasia, holding a Burning-Glass in her Hand.

Whilst in your hand this Chrystal Glass I view,
It seems almost to be as bright as you.
Whilst your Eyes dazling glories on it run,
You make me fancy 'tis another Sun.
This Glass an Emblem of your coldness proves,
For that encreases, and inflames my Loves.
So, when on me your snowy hand you turn,
The solid Ice you hold, boasts Pow'r to burn.
I now believe the Sun in Oceans lies,
Here, on a frozen Sea, we find Amasia's Eyes,
Ah! charming Fair, you seem, while thus you stand,
Like Heav'n's dread thund'er arm'd, with light'nings in your hand.
Flashes from thence must vain, and useless prove,
For, who but once sees you, feels fiercer flames in Love.
The proud Salmon'us ne'er such light'nings threw,
As from your Silver Cloud are cast by you.
He had with that been thought a God below,
But, had he your fair Eyes, he had been truly so.
His Sky of brass had the vast Heav'ns excel'd,
And the great thund'rer there, had been by him repell'd.

52

'Tis he the real Deity would prove
Thy Beauty's flashes would have kindled Love,
And, worse than Jove did him, he would have blasted Jove.