Poems on Several Occasions | ||
625
Stances de Monsieur de Scudery.
I
Fair Nymph, by whose perfections mov'd,My wounded Heart is turn'd to Flame;
By all admired, by all approv'd,
Indure at least to be belov'd,
Although you will not Love again.
II
Aminta as Unkind, as FairWhat is there that you ought to fear;
For cruel if I you declare,
And that indeed you cruel are,
Why the reproach may you not hear?
626
III
Even reproaches should delight,If Friendship for me you have none;
And if no anger, I have yet,
Enough perhaps that may invite
Your hatred; or compassion.
IV
When your Disdain is most severe,When you most rigorous do prove,
When frowns of anger most you wear;
You still more charming do appear,
And I am more, and more in Love.
V
Ah! let me, Sweet, your sight enjoy,Though with the forfeit of my Life;
For fall what will, I'de rather dye,
Beholding you, of present Joy,
Than absent, of a lingring Grief.
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VI
Let your Eyes lighten till expiringIn flame my Heart a Cinder lye;
Falling is nobler, than retiring,
And in the glory of Aspiring;
'Tis brave to tumble from the Sky.
VII
Yet I would any thing imbrace,Might serve your anger to appease;
And, if I may obtain my Grace,
Your Steps shall leave no print; nor trace
I will not with Devotion kiss.
VIII
If (Cruel) you will have it so,No word my passion shall betray;
My wounded Heart shall hide its Woe:
But if it Sigh, those Sighs will blow,
And tell you what my Tongue would say.
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IX
Should yet your rigour higher rise,Even those offending Sighs shall cease;
I will my Pain, and Grief disguise:
But (Sweet) if you consult mine Eyes,
Those Eyes will tell you my Distress.
X
If th' utmost my respect can do,Still more your cruelty displease;
Consult your Face, and that will shew
What Love is to such Beauty due,
And to the state of my Disease.
Poems on Several Occasions | ||