Poems | ||
Song.
[I will not trust thy tempting graces]
I will not trust thy tempting graces,
Or thy deceitful charms,
Nor pris'ner be to thy embraces,
Or fetter'd in thy arms;
No, Celia, no, not all thy art
Can wound or captivate my heart.
Or thy deceitful charms,
Nor pris'ner be to thy embraces,
Or fetter'd in thy arms;
No, Celia, no, not all thy art
Can wound or captivate my heart.
I will not gaze upon thy Eyes,
Or wanton with thy Hair,
Lest those should burn me by surprize,
Or these my soul ensnare:
Nor with those smiling dangers play,
Or fool my Liberty away.
Or wanton with thy Hair,
Lest those should burn me by surprize,
Or these my soul ensnare:
Nor with those smiling dangers play,
Or fool my Liberty away.
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Since then my wary heart is free,
And unconfin'd as thine,
If thou would'st mine should captiv'd be,
Thou must thine own resigne,
And gratitude may thus move more
Then Love or Beauty could before,
And unconfin'd as thine,
If thou would'st mine should captiv'd be,
Thou must thine own resigne,
And gratitude may thus move more
Then Love or Beauty could before,
Poems | ||