Poems Upon Several Occasions | ||
67
Destin'd to Love.
I
Perhaps I shall be censur'd by the Wise,For feeding thus mine Eyes;
Alas, 'tis Fate, I must adore,
Each time I gaze on her much more, and more;
From her bright Looks arise,
Effluviums so well resin'd,
As can almost restore the Man that's blind.
II
For ought I know these Wise Men cannot see,The Happiness which we
Hourly enjoy, they look a-scue,
Scarcely discerning what is false from true:
But what is this to me?
I know that had I Argus's Eyes
To view so bless'd a sight, they'd scarce suffice.
68
III
Oh, could I love enough, I'd split each Vein,Till Nature fill'd 'em up again:
Those do the greatest Monsters prove
Of all Mankind, who are but Dwarfs in Love;
All other things are frail, and vain,
But Love is in it self compleat,
Love in excess can make us wise and great.
IV
Nor all th' Endeavours of a well stor'd Brain,Can ever break Lov's Chain;
I sooner could reverse my Fate,
And by what Thread my Soul is joyn'd relate,
Than never love again;
This is the Star that rules my Days,
This is the Dove which brings my morning Bays.
Poems Upon Several Occasions | ||