Poems upon several Occasions By Mr. Smith |
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Imitated from a Little Book, Entitl'd, POETÆ Rusticantis Literatum Otium.
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 | Poems upon several Occasions |  |
358
Imitated from a Little Book, Entitl'd, POETÆ Rusticantis Literatum Otium.
The Power of LOVE.
Enough my am'rous Muse has play'd,
And sweetly sung the Gentle Maid;
Gentle Lycoris, fair and young,
Enough has grac'd my am'rous Song.
Upon her Cheeks, upon her Breasts,
Cupid in Down, and Roses rests;
On rosy Beds, in wanton Play,
Frolicks all Night, and sports all Day.
Sufficiently I've sung the Fair,
Her cruel Eyes, and mazy Hair,
Her Eyes that burn with Rage Divine,
That so unmercifully shine,
They kill this tender Heart of mine.
And sweetly sung the Gentle Maid;
Gentle Lycoris, fair and young,
Enough has grac'd my am'rous Song.
Upon her Cheeks, upon her Breasts,
Cupid in Down, and Roses rests;
On rosy Beds, in wanton Play,
Frolicks all Night, and sports all Day.
Sufficiently I've sung the Fair,
Her cruel Eyes, and mazy Hair,
Her Eyes that burn with Rage Divine,
That so unmercifully shine,
They kill this tender Heart of mine.
359
But Love no more my Breast alarms;
Now let us sound To Arms! To Arms!
Let the Drums beat a Martial Strain,
While Echo's rattle o're the Plain;
Bid Trumpets rouze the Warrior-God
With Fury chaf'd, and bath'd in Blood:
Who, when the thund'ring War is done,
With Laurels crown'd, in Battel won,
Retreats in eager Haste, to sport
With Venus in the Cyprian Court.
On her his Head reclining throws,
And in her Bosom seeks Repose,
Where with a balmy Kiss, and Smile
She heals his Wounds, rewards his Toil.
He now does Thousand Kisses taste,
And, after Thousand Kisses past,
Transporting Joys the Lover meet,
Joys more than Heav'nly Nectar sweet.
Now let us sound To Arms! To Arms!
Let the Drums beat a Martial Strain,
While Echo's rattle o're the Plain;
Bid Trumpets rouze the Warrior-God
With Fury chaf'd, and bath'd in Blood:
Who, when the thund'ring War is done,
With Laurels crown'd, in Battel won,
Retreats in eager Haste, to sport
With Venus in the Cyprian Court.
On her his Head reclining throws,
And in her Bosom seeks Repose,
Where with a balmy Kiss, and Smile
She heals his Wounds, rewards his Toil.
He now does Thousand Kisses taste,
And, after Thousand Kisses past,
Transporting Joys the Lover meet,
Joys more than Heav'nly Nectar sweet.
360
Fantastick Muse, where dost thou stray?
Whither mislead me from my Way?
E're while I did my Strings prepare,
To sound the Noise, and Pomp of War;
But ah! in spite of all my Art,
Victorious Love resumes my Heart.
Fair Venus does my Thoughts employ,
Fair Venus, and her Quiver'd Boy;
These Gentle Pow'rs my humble Vein improve,
They bid me Sing, and all I Sing is Love.
Whither mislead me from my Way?
E're while I did my Strings prepare,
To sound the Noise, and Pomp of War;
But ah! in spite of all my Art,
Victorious Love resumes my Heart.
Fair Venus does my Thoughts employ,
Fair Venus, and her Quiver'd Boy;
These Gentle Pow'rs my humble Vein improve,
They bid me Sing, and all I Sing is Love.
| Poems upon several Occasions | |