Female Poems On Several Occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

How far are they deceiv'd, that hope in vain
A lasting Lease of Joys from Love t'obtain?
All the Dear Sweets we're promis'd, or expect,
After Enjoyment turn to cold Neglect:
Cou'd Love a constant Happiness have known,
That Mighty Wonder had in Me been shown;
Our Passions were so favoured by Fate,
As if she meant them an Eternal Date:
So kind he look'd, such tender Words he spoke,
'Twas past Belief such Vows shou'd e're be broke:
Fix'd on my Eyes, how often wou'd he say,
He cou'd with Pleasure gaze an Age away.
When Thought, too great for Words, had made him mute,
In Kisses he wou'd tell my Hand his Sute:

105

So strong his Passion was, so far above
The common Gallantries that pass for Love:
At worst, I thought, if he unkind shou'd prove,
His ebbing Passion wou'd be kinder far,
Than the First Transports of all others are:
Nor was my Love weaker, or less than his;
In him I center'd all my hopes of Bliss:
For him, my Duty to my Friends forgot;
For him I lost—alas! what lost I not?
Fame, all the Valuable Things of Life,
To meet his Love by a less Name than Wise.
How happy was I then! how dearly blest!
VVhen this Great Man lay panting on my Breast,
Looking such Things as ne're can be exprest.
Thousand fresh Loves he gave me every hour,
VVhile eagerly I did his Looks devour:
Quite overcome with Charms, I trembling lay,
At every Look he gave, melted away;
I was so highly happy in his Love,
Methought I pity'd those that dwelt above.

106

Think then thou greatest, loveliest, falsest Man,
How you have vow'd, how I have lov'd, and than
My faithless Dear, be cruel if you can.
How I have lov'd, I cannot, need not tell;
No, every Act has shewn I lov'd too well.
Since first I saw you, I ne're had a Thought,
VVas not entirely yours; to you I brought
My Virgin Innocence, and freely made
My Love an Offering to your Noble Bed:
Since when, you've been the Star by which I've steer'd
And nothing else but you, I lov'd, or fear'd:
Your Smiles I onely liv'd by, and I must
VVhen e're you Frown, be shatter'd into Dust.
I cannot live on Pity, or Respect,
A Thought so mean, wou'd my whole Frame infect,
Less than your Love I scorn, Sir, to accept.
Let me not live in dull Indiff'rency,
But give me Rage enough to make me die:
For if from you I needs must meet my Fate,
Before your Pity, I wou'd choose your Hate.