Poems upon several Occasions | ||
The LOAN.
I
Give me, my Fair, or lend at leastThose Naughty, Rolling Eyes of thine,
Whose sparkling Orbs, like Phœbus dress't
With pointed Rays, severely shine:
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And make another Quiver of my Heart.
II
But, Lovely Nymph, if you requireOn what Design the Loan I crave,
I thence would back discharge the Fire,
And Shafts that scorch, and wound your Slave;
That You may be as wretched in your Turn,
With equal Arrows bleed, with equal Fires may burn.
Poems upon several Occasions | ||