Poems By the most deservedly Admired Mrs Katherine Philips: The matchless Orinda. To which is added Monsieur Corneille's Pompey & Horace Tragedies. With several other Translations out of French |
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To Rosania, now Mrs. Mountague, being with her.
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To Rosania, now Mrs. Mountague, being with her.
1
As men that are with Visions grac'dMust have all other thoughts displac'd,
And buy those short descents of Light
With loss of Sense; or Spirit's flight:
2
So since thou wert my happiness,I could not hope the rate was less;
And thus the Vision which I gain
Is short t'enjoy, and hard t'attain.
3
Ah then! what a poor trifle's allThat thing which here we Pleasure call,
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Is hardly got and quickly lost?
4
Yet is there Justice in the fate;For should we dwell in blest estate,
Our Joys thereby would so inflame,
We should forget from whence we came.
5
If this so sad a doom can quitMe for the follies I commit;
Let no estrangement on thy part
Adde a new ruine to my heart.
6
When on my self I do reflect,I can no smile from thee expect:
But if thy Kindness hath no plea,
Some freedom grant for Charity.
7
Else the just World must needs denyOur Friendship an Eternity:
This Love will ne're that title hold;
For mine's too hot, and thine too cold.
8
Divided Rivers lose their name;And so our too unequal flame
Parted, will Passion be in me,
And an Indifference in thee.
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9
Thy absence I could easier find,Provided thou wert well and kind,
Than such a Presence as is this,
Made up of snatches of my bliss.
10
So when the Earth long gasps for rain,If she at last some few drops gain,
She is more parched than at first;
That small recruit increas'd the thirst.
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