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To a L. who had courted a Lady of much perfection, and after offered his Service to another of an inferiour Beauty and Parts; in confidence that the first would re-accept him.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

To a L. who had courted a Lady of much perfection, and after offered his Service to another of an inferiour Beauty and Parts; in confidence that the first would re-accept him.

And can thy proud Apostate eyes
Court her again, with hope t'entice
One gentle language, or a smile
Upon a Renegade so vile?
Thing call'd a Lord, forbear; 'tis fit
Ambition leave thee like thy wit.
Send for an Exorcist from Rome,
And let him with full orders come,
To dispossesse thy wanton sence
Of this grand divel, Impudence.
Can she, in whom shines every grace,
Loves wide fancy can embrace,
Forget her nobler soul to be
Upon thy pride retriv'd by thee?
She hath let fall too many beams;
Thus heaven upon corrupted streams
Hath dropp'd transparent dew, which shewes
The Spring is cleer, whence crystal flowes.

15

Enjoy thy madnes, or what's worse,
Thy new made Mistris, 'tis a curse
To be in hell, but thine is more,
Whose eyes have witnest heaven before:
Th'Hesperian apples thou maist see
Hereafter, but ne'er climb the tree;
For rather then thou gather fruit,
The Plant will wither at the root.
Dote still upon the Dragon, she
Is fierce, and form'd enough for thee:
And if thy owne ill can dispence,
Kisse there, and suck more poyson thence.