Poems Upon Several Occasions | ||
73
Love Stifl'd.
I
These seven long Years with all my Skill,I've strove to hide my growing ill;
The Magick Cures of Love I've often try'd,
And healing Plaisters to my Wounds apply'd;
For should these Flames break out, they may
All my Designs to her betray.
II
Should I inform her that I love,Perhaps it might my Ruine prove;
'Tis better like Æneas first to shroud,
Love's glorious Visage in a Cloud;
And then with open Arms to run,
As Phaeton embrac'd the Sun.
III
But when the Gods for me shall call,Without request I'll tell her all;
74
Reveal to Priests all their Impiety:
But if she dart one pleasant Beam,
I shall be vigorous again.
Poems Upon Several Occasions | ||