 | The Poetical Works of Mr. William Pattison |  |
206
Upon seeing a Lady at the Musick-Booth at Sturbridge-Fair.
By the Same.
I
Could these faint Numbers glow with equal Fire,To that which in his Breast the Writer feels:
Could Phœbus like the Fair Unknown inspire,
And Verse, but emulate the Flame it tells,
The Lover some Success had found, and she
Been known to Fame, tho' lost to Love and Me.
II
Wound not that Love with too severe a Name,Which was not Chance, but Passion in Excess,
Conceal'd the Shaft from whence the Arrow came,
My Hopes may be, but not my Anguish less:
Strikes not the Light'ning with a Fate as true,
Tho' baffled Reason wonder'd whence it flew.
207
III
If not in Pity to your Lover's Woes,For your own Sake, at least, your self reveal,
Lest when I die, and Thou the latent Cause,
You lose a Triumph you deserve so well;
Nay, ev'n repaid with all my Suff'rings be,
And envy'd by my Fall—if known, I fall by Thee.
IV
Yet more—a thousand Loves may lurk behind,And half the Course of Glory yet to run;
A flowing Wit, discreet, and beauteous Mind,
May crown the Conquest which your Eyes begun;
Nor bid me dread the thousand Deaths in store,
I look'd, I sigh'd, and lov'd—and was undone before!
208
V
In vain I, Midnight-Anchorite, must boastOf rugged Maxims, and pedantick Rules,
For what is Life, if best Enjoyment lost
In the dull Mazes of insipid Schools?
Love, must refine what Science scarce began,
And mould the Letter'd Savage into Man.
VI
Let lazy Hermits dream in College-CellsSeverely great, and indolently good,
Whose frozen Breasts such glimm'ring Rapture swells,
As Lifeless, dull Platonicks understood.
Go, tell that doating Sage, who looks on Thee
With Plato's Eyes, may question if He See.
209
VII
Judge now my Passion by severest Truth,And read what rig'rous Justice cannot blame
If I have err'd, inform a willing Youth,
At lest, mistaken only was my Flame.
Was Love a Crime? then teach me to Adore,
And Zeal shall be what Passion was before.
| The Poetical Works of Mr. William Pattison | |