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Poems

or, A Miscellany of Sonnets, Satyrs, Drollery, Panegyricks, Elegies, &c. At the Instance, and Request of Several Friends, Times, and Occasions, Composed; and now at their command Collected, and Committed to the Press. By the Author, M. Stevenson
 
 

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Upon a Silver Box presented to His Mistriss, with this Paper in It.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Upon a Silver Box presented to His Mistriss, with this Paper in It.

A Box, and nothing else, were to address
My Self unto You but in emptiness:
I therefore thought convenient to impart,
This Paper as the Picture of my heart;
Think it Pandora's Box; for I wou'd here,
All that is pure or precious should appear.
Here are no Rings or Rubies in it, but
What's fairer, there a faithful heart is put.
A love shall last, and all esteem surmount,
When Pearls like Pebles turn to no account.
Nor brings it Civet; what alas, is that?
The Excrement of an outlandish Cat.
'Tis no Tobacco Box, whose Indian smoke,
Should your pure Nostrils, like a Chimny choke.

54

No; To send such a Box to thee (my dear)
Another Box might well become my Ear.
But here's a choice perfume, shall hence arise,
Grateful as Incence lighted by your Eyes.
'Tis no Tin Box, nor off-spring of the Ketle;
But Silver, ever better Pocket mettle.
'Tis good, yet not so great as your desert:
However ope it, and you ope my heart.
Accept it then a Present from a Lover,
Be You the Bottom, and I'le be the Cover.