 | Poems Upon Several Occasions |  |
123
The Captivity.
I
If Wit, annex'd to Beauty's Charms,Could in a God create Desire,
When Celia clasps me in her Arms,
No wonder if I'm all on Fire.
II
I must resign against my Will,My Pow'r's too weak to keep the Place,
By ev'ry Smile she conquers still,
Those fiery Arrows of her Face.
III
If Beauties then such Conquests have,Surely their Charters are divine:
I now submit to be thy Slave,
Dear Celia, and for ever Thine.
| Poems Upon Several Occasions | |