The Constant.
1
Great, and wise Conqu'rour, who where e're
Thou com'st, dost fortifie, and settle there!
Who canst defend as well as get;
And never hadst one Quarter beat up yet;
Now thou art in, Thou ne're wilt part
With one inch of my vanquisht Heart;
For since thou took'st it by assault from Me,
'Tis Garison'd so strong with Thoughts of Thee,
It fears no beauteous Enemy.
2
Had thy charming strength been less,
I'had serv'd e're this an hundred Mistresses.
I'm better thus, nor would compound
To leave my Pris'on to be a Vagabound.
A Pris'on in which I still would be,
Though every door stood ope to Me.
In spight both of thy Coldness and thy Pride,
All Love is Marriage on thy Lovers side,
For only Death can them divide.
3
Close, narrow Chain, yet soft and kind,
As that which Spi'rits above to good does bind,
Gentle, and sweet Necessity,
Which does not force, but guide our Liberty!
Your love on Me were spent in vain,
Since my Love still could but remain
Just as it is; for what, alas can be
Added to that which hath Infinity
Both in Extent and Quality?
