University of Virginia Library

The first Dream.

Went I this Morn in cruel sport
To fright the poor Hare from her fort?
Vp-rouze her from the solemn Cel
With horrors of a Fun'ral-Knel?
Did Tyrant-I seek others prize?
My self now made the Sacrifice?
Fates, you are equal, and thou Love,
Like mercy I [just Talio] prove
As meant to others; Torture, Pain,
Dire scourge! tis my reward again.
'Twas she the Huntresse was, by th'way,
That ayr'd her so, like beauteous May,
(Her Mistris rather) round bestowing
Such Beauties sweets; dull winter shewing
Fresh-cheek'd turnd Sommer. O, what raies
Then strook our eyes? what wonders blaze
Sweetst, Lightnings? what Soule rapes, divine
Confusions? that th'ore flowing shine
Spak't Heavenly Vision: if Earths race,
Then Woman, lovelyst woman 'twas;
Or rare I know not-What: she's All
Men excellence perfection call
Her Eyes shot day-light Beam-supplyes,
While th'Sun cloud-muffled seemd; close lyes
Asham'd on's gaudier blazing so,
Those Corpo-rayes to hers in shew;
Or't may be Love-dart feard, least he
By th'jealous Morn forsaken be;
Or, indeed struck, with amorous head
Jogd on, and so went sick to Bed:
The World not needing beg th'old Sun
Since they in her have two for one.
No Christal frost-work deckt the ground
T'intice her foot, whose Beamings round
That Morn disperst, perhaps ore-awd
The glaz'd Earth, Congelations thawd:
Her Pace Court-measure, graceful'st showd
While th'spic't ayr through her breath more good,
Purgd wholsom seemd: as Goblins light,
Fogs shun her Puerity, take flight.
Ten thausand Cupids came along
Playing in her Eyes, her cheeks, or hung
O'th Brest, Lips, Hayr; incamp'd appear
In Bright and lovely'st Musters there;
As with their quiverd Hoast would pierce
All Hearts, and conquer th'Vniverse:
A moving world of wonder shewing;
A Heaven of flesh all Joyes bestowing.
Twas fairely-sweetly-cruel she
That chas'd and seiz'd my liberty:
That let a Mint of lightnings fly
Heap of Granadoes from her Eye,
Dart-magazine that shot through mine;
I saw their flaming point to shine
All th'way they came, when through tht Eye
Th'Heart bled in kindest simpathy:
I Sigh, Fear, Muse; what wonders press
Through these glaz'd Organs, Souls possess!