 | The Poems Of Mark Akenside |  |
ODE XIV. THE COMPLAINT.
I
Away! Away!Tempt me no more, insidious love:
Thy soothing sway
Long did my youthful bosom prove:
At length thy treason is discern'd,
At length some dear-bought caution earn'd:
Away! nor hope my riper age to move.
II
I know, i seeHer merit. Needs it now be shewn,
Alas, to me?
How often, to myself unknown,
The graceful, gentle, virtuous maid
Have i admir'd! How often said,
What joy to call a heart like her's one's own!
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III
But, flattering god,O squanderer of content and ease,
In thy abode
Will care's rude lesson learn to please?
O say, deceiver, hast thou won,
Proud fortune to attend thy throne,
Or plac'd thy friends above her stern decrees?
| The Poems Of Mark Akenside | |