Amasia, or, The Works of the Muses A Collection of Poems. In Three Volumes. By Mr John Hopkins |
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To Amasia.
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Amasia, or, The Works of the Muses | ||
To Amasia.
[Think, think, Amasia, on the Wounds you gave]
Think, think, Amasia, on the Wounds you gave,Think how your Eyes have made my Soul your Slave.
O let your Pride before your Beauty fly,
What will you gain, to see your Sylvius die;
Why am I slighted thus, Amasia, why?
For Adoration are our Temples made;
While there are Altars, vows will there be paid.
At Shrines the suppliant does with Off'rings move,
Heav'n claims our Duty, as you claim our Love.
No wonder then my Breast so soon was fir'd,
For you were only born to be admir'd.
The gazing World shall you the Charmer see,
Ador'd by all, but most belov'd by me.
109
Into what happy Youth's successful Arms?
Lovely in all, with form, and Face divine,
With Form and Face Serenely Sweet as thine?
It cannot be—here all desert is Barr'd,
Heav'n cant be priz'd—
'Tis always giv'n, and giv'n as a reward.
Impious the Wretch who thinks thy Charms to buy,
If Mortal Man can purchase thee, 'tis I.
Nor Transient Gold, nor Titles ought to move,
Love only Merits you, immortal Love.
Free from all Servile int'rest do I sue,
I should have all the World, in having you.
Tho' my small Fortunes wreck'd, and lost I own,
I Court your self, but for your self alone.
What more can in Ambition's Circle fall?
Her self? Ye Pow'rs! Thy Charming self is all.
Let others Plow the fierce, Tempestuous main.
And visit Lands, far distant hence, for gain.
Let suppliant Souls for gilded honour bow;
Thou art my Treasure, all I wish for, thou.
Tho' now at partial Fortune I repine,
I should indeed be rich, if thou wert Mine.
110
Your Father—think, O think—
Your Father Loves you not so well as I.
When you, by him consenting, shall be led
To the false Joys of a gay Nuptial Bed,
May you abhor the Man, but for damn'd int'rest Wed.
Rather, kind Heav'n! (if such a thing can be)
May he be cold, indiff'rent, dull—yet doated on by thee.
Then may you say, when this curst State you prove,
Tho' Sylvius wanted Fortunes, he had Love.
Amasia, or, The Works of the Muses | ||