[Poems on Several Occasions with A Pastoral to which is added A Discourse of Life] [by John Tutchin] |
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ODE.
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 | [Poems on Several Occasions with A Pastoral |  |
58
ODE.
[Well; Cælia's Married! If she be, I do not care]
I.
Well; Cælia's Married! If she be, I do not care,Since some unmarried are.
I thought, at first, my Love could never die;
But now I find it otherwise.
When Fuel's taken from the Fire,
How soon the hottest Flame in gloomy Darkness dies?
Smoak puts out Flame, Marriage Desire;
All things must wait
The Revolution of their Fate.
The Gods for us decree, and we for them obey;
They manage us like Engines, They the First Movers are;
We move in a Circumscribed Sphere:
They make the Night, and They the Day:
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They make those Vows above, to which we Mortals set our Hand.
II.
Did Cælia think, she anger'd me,When she forsook her Vow?
No; such a Sot I ne're could be,
To die in Love for You.
Mad Men upon themselves their Poniards prove;
I am not Mad, for I am not in Love.
Shall I in some dark Corner die alone,
'Cause I have lost a Faithless One?
No, Madam, Thanks to you, my Heart is grown
As hard as any Stone:
And it has the Attractive Virtue too;
It draws a Thousand Beauties to it every Day,
Clear as the Sun, and sweet as May;
And, in my Eyes, more Bright than You.
III.
Now, Heavens be prais'd, I'm free!And thank my Mistress for my Goal-Delivery.
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I'm surfeited with Ease.
Sun-Shine of Beauty was too hot;
But now, being to the Shadow got,
I find that Love was a Disease.
Now shall I, as your Gallants do,
Rail at her, that me forsook,
In whose Words I Pleasure took;
Curse her, cause she is untrue:
No; that's beneath a Man, much less a Lover,
His own dear Love to hide, or Mistress Crimes discover.
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