 | Miscellany Poems |  |
Advice to a Despairing Lover.
I
Why, silly Wretch, wil't pine and dy,And unregarded ly?
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Either her Pitty, of her Love,
That's free from passion, like the Gods above.
II
Let dy with Thee those hopes, that fedThese follies in thy head:
The Sun doth never cease to fly,
Nor th' Moon her wonted Course lays by,
Because a silly peevish Worm will dy.
III
Monarchs may dy; and yet stern FateFlies at the wonted rate:
The Laws of Nature still wheel on,
And their unerring Course do run,
And no new grief doth stop their Motion.
IV
Why then wilt thou resign thy Breath,Since she minds not thy Death?
She, like the Stars, perhaps may see;
But plac'd in her Felicity,
She can't have sence of sorrow, or of Thee.
V
Thou by thy Death wilt add one more,One Victim to the Store,
And as those Heaps, in Battail slain,
Are known by Number, not by Name,
Thou nothing by thy Death, but Death shalt gain.
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VI
So do the unregarded Fry,Like Beasts neglected dy;
And after some few Years of sleep
Oblivion o're their Names doth creep;
And their left Friends scarce their Remembrance keep.
| Miscellany Poems | |