 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
Upon an undeserving and ungratefull Mistress, whom he could not help loving.
Being a Paraphrastical Translation of Ovid's Tenth Elegy. Lib. 3. Amorum.
I have too long endur'd her guilty Scorn,
Too long her falseness my fond Love has born;
My freedom and my wits at length I claim;
Be gone base Passion, dye unworthy flame;
My Life's sole torment and my Honour's stain,
Quit this tir'd Heart and end the lingring pain.
I have resolv'd I'le be my self once more
Long banish'd Reason to her right restore,
And throw off Love's tyrannick sway, that still encroaching power.
My growing shame I see at last, tho' late,
And my past Follies both despise and hate:
Hold out my Heart, nor let her Beauty move,
Be constant in thy Anger as thy Love:
My present pains shall give thee future ease,
As bitter Potions cure, tho' they displease.
'Tis for this end, for freedom more assur'd,
I have so long such shamefull Chains endur'd.
Like a scorn'd Slave before her door I lay,
And proud repulses suffer'd every day;
Without complaining, banish'd from her sight,
On the cold ground I spent the tedious Night;
While some glad Rival in her Arms did lye,
Glutted with Love and surfeited with Joy.
Thence have I seen the tir'd Adulterer come,
Dragging a weak exhausted Carkass home.
And yet this Curse a Blessing I esteem,
Compar'd with that of being seen by him;
By him descry'd attending in the Street,
May my foes only such Disgraces meet.
What toyl and time has this false Woman cost?
How much of unreturning Youth has for her sake been lost?
How long did I, where fancy led or fate?
Unthank'd, unminded, on her Rambles wait;
Her Steps, her Looks were still by mine pursu'd,
And watch'd by me she charm'd the gazing Crowd.
My diligent Love and over-fond Desire,
Has been the means to kindle others Fire.
What need I mention every little Wrong,
Or curse the softness of her soothing Tongue.
The private Love-signs that in publick pass,
Between her and some common staring Ass.
The Coquet Art her faithless Heart allows,
Or tax her with a thousand broken Vows:
I hear she's sick, and with wild hast I run,
Officious Hast, and Visit importune.
Entring, my Rival on her Bed I see,
The politick Sickness only was to me.
With this and more oft has my Love been try'd,
Some other Coxcomb let her now provide,
To bear her jilting and maintain her pride;
My batter'd Bark has reach'd the Port at last,
Nor fears again the Billows it has past.
Cease your soft Oaths and that still ready show'r,
Those once dear words have lost their charming pow'r.
In vain you flatter, I am now no more,
That easie Fool you found me heretofore.
Too long her falseness my fond Love has born;
My freedom and my wits at length I claim;
Be gone base Passion, dye unworthy flame;
My Life's sole torment and my Honour's stain,
Quit this tir'd Heart and end the lingring pain.
I have resolv'd I'le be my self once more
Long banish'd Reason to her right restore,
And throw off Love's tyrannick sway, that still encroaching power.
198
And my past Follies both despise and hate:
Hold out my Heart, nor let her Beauty move,
Be constant in thy Anger as thy Love:
My present pains shall give thee future ease,
As bitter Potions cure, tho' they displease.
'Tis for this end, for freedom more assur'd,
I have so long such shamefull Chains endur'd.
Like a scorn'd Slave before her door I lay,
And proud repulses suffer'd every day;
Without complaining, banish'd from her sight,
On the cold ground I spent the tedious Night;
While some glad Rival in her Arms did lye,
Glutted with Love and surfeited with Joy.
Thence have I seen the tir'd Adulterer come,
Dragging a weak exhausted Carkass home.
And yet this Curse a Blessing I esteem,
Compar'd with that of being seen by him;
By him descry'd attending in the Street,
May my foes only such Disgraces meet.
What toyl and time has this false Woman cost?
How much of unreturning Youth has for her sake been lost?
How long did I, where fancy led or fate?
Unthank'd, unminded, on her Rambles wait;
Her Steps, her Looks were still by mine pursu'd,
And watch'd by me she charm'd the gazing Crowd.
My diligent Love and over-fond Desire,
Has been the means to kindle others Fire.
What need I mention every little Wrong,
Or curse the softness of her soothing Tongue.
The private Love-signs that in publick pass,
Between her and some common staring Ass.
The Coquet Art her faithless Heart allows,
Or tax her with a thousand broken Vows:
I hear she's sick, and with wild hast I run,
Officious Hast, and Visit importune.
199
The politick Sickness only was to me.
With this and more oft has my Love been try'd,
Some other Coxcomb let her now provide,
To bear her jilting and maintain her pride;
My batter'd Bark has reach'd the Port at last,
Nor fears again the Billows it has past.
Cease your soft Oaths and that still ready show'r,
Those once dear words have lost their charming pow'r.
In vain you flatter, I am now no more,
That easie Fool you found me heretofore.
Anger and Love a doubtfull fight maintain,
Each strives by turns my staggering heart to gain:
But what can long against Lov's force contend,
My Love I fear will conquer in the end;
I'll do what e'er I can to hate you still,
And if I Love, know 'tis against my Will.
So the Bull hates the Ploughman's Yoke to wear,
Yet what he hates, his stubborn Neck must bear.
Each strives by turns my staggering heart to gain:
But what can long against Lov's force contend,
My Love I fear will conquer in the end;
I'll do what e'er I can to hate you still,
And if I Love, know 'tis against my Will.
So the Bull hates the Ploughman's Yoke to wear,
Yet what he hates, his stubborn Neck must bear.
Her manners oft my Indignation raise,
But straight her Beauty the short storm allays.
Her Life I loath, her Person I adore;
Much I contemn her, but I love her more.
Both with her and without her I'm in pain,
And rage to lose, what I should blush to gain:
Uncertain, yet at what my wishes aim;
Loath to abandon Love or part with Fame
That Angel-form ill suits a form all sin;
Ah! be less fair without, or more within.
When these soft Smiles my yielding Powers invade,
In vain I call her Vices to my aid;
Tho' now disdaining the disguise of Art,
In my esteem her Conduct claims no part,
Her Face a natural right has to my Heart.
No Crime's so black as to deform her Eyes,
Those Clouds must scatter when these Suns shall rise.
But straight her Beauty the short storm allays.
Her Life I loath, her Person I adore;
Much I contemn her, but I love her more.
Both with her and without her I'm in pain,
And rage to lose, what I should blush to gain:
Uncertain, yet at what my wishes aim;
Loath to abandon Love or part with Fame
That Angel-form ill suits a form all sin;
Ah! be less fair without, or more within.
When these soft Smiles my yielding Powers invade,
In vain I call her Vices to my aid;
Tho' now disdaining the disguise of Art,
In my esteem her Conduct claims no part,
Her Face a natural right has to my Heart.
No Crime's so black as to deform her Eyes,
Those Clouds must scatter when these Suns shall rise.
200
Enough, fair Conqueror, the day's your own,
See at your Feet, Love's vanquish'd Rebel thrown;
By these dear Joys, (Joys dear tho' they are past)
When in the kindest Links of Love we held each other fast;
By th'injur'd Gods your false Oaths did prophane
By all those Beauties that support and feed your proud disdain;
By that lov'd Face from the whole Sex Elect,
To which I all my Vows and Pray'rs direct,
And equal with a Power divine respect:
By every feature of a turn so fine,
And by those Arms that charm and dazle mine.
Spare from new triumphs, cherish without art,
This over-faithfull, this too tender Heart:
A Heart that was respectfull while it strove,
But yielding is all blind impetuous Love:
Live as you please, torment me as you will,
Still are you fair, and I must love you still.
Think only, if with just and clement Reign,
A willing Subject you wou'd chuse to gain,
Or drag a conquer'd Vassal in a Chain;
But to what ever Conduct you incline,
Do suffer, be what my worse fears divine,
You are, you ought, you must, you shall be mine.
Reason for ever, the vain strife give o'er,
Thy cruel Wisdom I can bear no more;
Let me indulge this one soft Passion's rule,
Curb vexing Sense and be a happy Fool;
With full spread Sails the tempting Gale obey,
That down Lov's Current drives me fast away.
See at your Feet, Love's vanquish'd Rebel thrown;
By these dear Joys, (Joys dear tho' they are past)
When in the kindest Links of Love we held each other fast;
By th'injur'd Gods your false Oaths did prophane
By all those Beauties that support and feed your proud disdain;
By that lov'd Face from the whole Sex Elect,
To which I all my Vows and Pray'rs direct,
And equal with a Power divine respect:
By every feature of a turn so fine,
And by those Arms that charm and dazle mine.
Spare from new triumphs, cherish without art,
This over-faithfull, this too tender Heart:
A Heart that was respectfull while it strove,
But yielding is all blind impetuous Love:
Live as you please, torment me as you will,
Still are you fair, and I must love you still.
Think only, if with just and clement Reign,
A willing Subject you wou'd chuse to gain,
Or drag a conquer'd Vassal in a Chain;
But to what ever Conduct you incline,
Do suffer, be what my worse fears divine,
You are, you ought, you must, you shall be mine.
Reason for ever, the vain strife give o'er,
Thy cruel Wisdom I can bear no more;
Let me indulge this one soft Passion's rule,
Curb vexing Sense and be a happy Fool;
With full spread Sails the tempting Gale obey,
That down Lov's Current drives me fast away.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |