The miscellaneous works (1739) | ||
To Clorinda.
Tis not Clorinda's noble air,
Her shape, nor lovely eyes,
(Tho' matchless all, exact and fair)
That thus our hearts surprize.
Her shape, nor lovely eyes,
(Tho' matchless all, exact and fair)
That thus our hearts surprize.
She, by some mightier pow'r invades,
And triumphs o'er our souls;
At once with softest art persuades,
And with bold force controuls.
And triumphs o'er our souls;
At once with softest art persuades,
And with bold force controuls.
'Tis in Clorinda's charming mind,
The sweet attraction lies;
There all that fire and life we find,
Which sparkles in her eyes.
The sweet attraction lies;
There all that fire and life we find,
Which sparkles in her eyes.
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In her a thousand graces shine,
That might our envy move;
Which yet our thoughts alone incline
T'oblige, admire, and love.
That might our envy move;
Which yet our thoughts alone incline
T'oblige, admire, and love.
The miscellaneous works (1739) | ||