 | Poems |  |
To Mr. W. Hammond.
Thou best of friendship, knowledge and of Art!
The charm of whose lov'd name, preserves my heart
From female vanities (thy name, which there
Till time dissolves the Fabrick, I must wear)
Forgive a Crime which long my soul opprest,
And crept by chance in my unwary Brest,
So great, as for thy pardon were unfit,
And to forgive were worse then to commit,
But that the fault and pain were so much one,
The very act did expiate what was done.
The charm of whose lov'd name, preserves my heart
From female vanities (thy name, which there
Till time dissolves the Fabrick, I must wear)
Forgive a Crime which long my soul opprest,
And crept by chance in my unwary Brest,
So great, as for thy pardon were unfit,
And to forgive were worse then to commit,
But that the fault and pain were so much one,
The very act did expiate what was done.
I (who so often sported with the flame,
Plaid with the Boy, and laught at both as tame)
Betray'd by Idlenesse and Beauty, fell
At last in love, love both the sin and Hell:
No punishment great as my fault esteem'd,
But to be that which I so long had seem'd.
Behold me such, a Face, a Voice, a Lute,
The sentence in a Minute execute.
I yield, recant, the Faith which I before
Deny'd, professe; the Power I scorn'd, implore.
Alas in vain! no prayers, no vowes can bow
Her stubborn heart, who neither will allow:
But see how strangely what was meant no lesse
Then torment, prov'd my greatest happinesse;
Delay, that should have sharpned, starv'd desire,
And cruelty not fann'd, but quench'd my fire.
Love bound me, now by kinde disdain set free,
I can despise that Love as well as she.
That sin to friendship I away have thrown,
My heart thou may'st without a rival own,
While such as willingly themselves beguile,
And sell away their freedoms for a smile,
Blush to confesse our joyes as far above
Their hopes, as friendship's longer liv'd then Love.
Plaid with the Boy, and laught at both as tame)
73
At last in love, love both the sin and Hell:
No punishment great as my fault esteem'd,
But to be that which I so long had seem'd.
Behold me such, a Face, a Voice, a Lute,
The sentence in a Minute execute.
I yield, recant, the Faith which I before
Deny'd, professe; the Power I scorn'd, implore.
Alas in vain! no prayers, no vowes can bow
Her stubborn heart, who neither will allow:
But see how strangely what was meant no lesse
Then torment, prov'd my greatest happinesse;
Delay, that should have sharpned, starv'd desire,
And cruelty not fann'd, but quench'd my fire.
Love bound me, now by kinde disdain set free,
I can despise that Love as well as she.
That sin to friendship I away have thrown,
My heart thou may'st without a rival own,
While such as willingly themselves beguile,
And sell away their freedoms for a smile,
Blush to confesse our joyes as far above
Their hopes, as friendship's longer liv'd then Love.
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