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IX
CONSTANCY

Fear not, my Dear, a Flame can never dye,
That is once kindled by so bright an Eye;
View but thy self, and measure thence my Love,
Think what a Passion such a Form must move;
For though thy Beauty first allur'd my Sight,
Now I consider it but as the Light
That led me to the Treasury of thy Mind,
Whose inward Vertue in that Feature shin'd.
That Knot be confident will ever last,
Which Fancy ty'd, and Reason has made fast;
So fast that time, although it may disarm
Thy lovely Face, my Faith can never harm;
And Age deluded, when it comes, will find
My Love removed, and to thy Soul assign'd.