SONG XXXII.
[I came, and Lockt, and Lik'd, and Lov'd]
1
I came
, and Lockt, and Lik'd, and Lov'd
And frolickt, in her Eye;
While, fair Florilla, well approv'd
The harmeless courtesie:
When, though my hopes were drown'd, Love blaz'd,
And set on fire, my heart,
While I still gaz'd
On that, which caus'd my smart,
Nor could my Tongue,
declare the wronge
Whereby, I sadly know,
No pains above,
The griefs, they prove,
Who fall in Love,
And dare not say, they do.
2
What Priviledge takes the nicer she?
To me, the thing's all one
Whether of softer Wax she be,
Or of the Parian stone:
The sport's the same: then tell me, why
Fancy, should be so rude,
For to deny.
What is, perhaps, as good.
From her that lends,
And freely spends
What, Nature, to her sent;
As from that Dame,
That counts it shame,
To play the game,
Which lost, she may repent.
