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The Works of Mr. Robert Gould

In Two Volumes. Consisting of those Poems [and] Satyrs Which were formerly Printed, and Corrected since by the Author; As also of the many more which He Design'd for the Press. Publish'd from his Own Original Copies [by Robert Gould]

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Despair.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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Despair.

In vain I write, in vain I strive to move
Her, whose stern Nature is averse to Love:
Ah cruel Nymph! Ah most regardless Fair!
Or wert thou born to give me endless Care?
'Tis said this Glorious Frame, and all above,
Those num'rous shining Lights that round us move,
Were rais'd from Chaos at one Word of Love.
Thro' the wide Wast blest Order swiftly flew,
And wild Confusion chang'd her grisly Hue;
By her own Offspring Discord was forsook,
And the glad Spheres their constant Motions took;
Wide as their Influence spreads, to either Pole,
In mystick Dance harmoniously they roll,
And with like sacred Union tune the Soul:
The Soul, for Beatifick Vision giv'n,
Breath'd from the Godhead, and its Centre Heav'n:
Both this and that on the same Axle move,
For Heav'n is Union, and the Soul is Love.
Love that does reach where ever Light extends,
And thither too a warmer Influence sends;
Nor when the Night arrives his happy Reign he ends.

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From his Eternal Sway there's nothing free,
All the Creation own his Power—But Thee,
Thee Cupid flies, and Thou dost Cupid shun,
Thy Eyes, more Cruel, do the Work alone.
He wounds the Heart, but gives in Time Relief;
You to the very Soul transfuse the Grief:
No Help design, no Pity e'er intend,
Unless in poor Amyntor's speedy End.
Thy Eyes, those Beams of Heav'n if Love were there,
Are but to me a sad portentous Star,
Where in broad Characters I read—Despair!
Despair then, Wretch, nor longer strive to move
Her whose stern Nature is averse to Love.