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Lyric Poems

Made in Imitation of the Italians. Of which, many are Translations From other Languages ... By Philip Ayres

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Complains, being hindred the sight of his Nymph.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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14

Complains, being hindred the sight of his Nymph.

To view these Walls each night I come alone,
And pay my Adoration to the Stone,
Whence Joy and Peace are influenc'd on me,
For 'tis the Temple of my Deity.
As Nights and Days an anxious Wretch by stealth
Creeps out to view the place which hoards his Wealth,
So to this House that keeps from me my Heart,
I come, look, traverse, weep, and then depart.
She's fenc'd so strongly in on ev'ry side,
Thought enters, but my Footsteps are deny'd.
Then sighs in vain I breathe, and Tears let fall:
Kiss a cold Stone sometimes, or hugg the Wall.
For like a Merchant that rough Seas has crost,
Near home is shipwrack'd, and his Treasure lost;
So, toss'd in storms of sorrow, on firm ground,
I in a Sea of mine own Tears am drown'd.