University of Virginia Library

Ephelia to Bajazet. [by Sir George Etherege]

How farre are they deceiv'd who hope in vaine,
A lasting Lease of joys, from Love t'obtaine?
All the deare sweets, wee promise or expect,
After Enjoyment, turnes to cold neglect:
Cou'd Love, a constant happinesse have knowne,
The mighty wonder had in me beene showne;
Our Passions were soe favoured by Fate,
As if she meant 'em an Eternall Date;
Soe kind he look'd, such tender words he spoke,
'Twas past beliefe, such Vows shou'd e're be broke!
Fixt on my Eyes, how often wou'd he say,
He cou'd with pleasure, gaze an Age away!
When thoughts too greate for words had made him Mute,
In kisses, he wou'd tell my hand his Suite;
Soe fierce his Passion was, soe farr above,
The Common Gallantryes, that passe for Love;
At worst I thought, if he unkind shoud prove,
His ebbing Passion wou'd be kinder farr,
Than the ffirst Transports, of all others are:
Nor was my Love, weaker or lesse than his,
In him I center'd all my hopes of Blisse!
For him my Duty to my Friends forgot,
For him I lost, alas, what lost I not!
Fame, all the valuable things of life
To meete his Love, by a lesse name than Wife!
How happy was I then, how dearely blest,
When this greate Man, lay panting on my Breast,
Lookeing such things, as ne're can be exprest!
Thousand fresh lookes, he gave me evry Houre,
Whilst greedily I did his lookes devoure,
Till quite or'ecome with Charmes, I trembling lay,
At ev'ry looke he gave, melted away.
I was soe highly happy in his Love,
Methoughts, I pitty'd them that dwelt above.
Thinke then, thou greatest, lovelyest, falsest Man,
How you have vow'd, how I have lov'd, and then
My faithlesse deare, be cruell if you can!
How I have lov'd, I cannot, need not tell,
Noe ev'ry Act has showne, I lov'd too well:
Since first I saw you, I nere had a thought,
Was not intirely yours, to you I brought,
My Virgin Innocence, and freely made,
My love an Off'ring to your Noble Bed:
Since when, y'ave beene the Starr, by which I steer'd,
And nothing else but you I lov'd, or feard;
Your smiles I only live by, and I must,
When e're you frowne, be shatter'd into Dust.
Oh! can the coldnesse that you shew me now,
Suite with the Generous heate you once did shew!
I cannot live on pitty, or respect,
A thought soe meane, wou'd my whole frame infect,
Lesse than your Love, I scorne Sir to expect.
Let me not live in dull indiff'rency,
But give me Rage enough, to make me dye!
For if from you, I needs must meete my Fate,
Before your pitty, I wou'd choose your hate.