 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
The Surprize.
I
On a clear River's flow'ry side,When Earth was in her gawdy pride,
Defended by the friendly shade
A woven Grove's dark entrails made,
Where the cold clay, with flowers strew'd,
Made up a pleasing solitude;
'Twas there I did my glorious Nymph surprize,
There stole my passion from her killing Eyes.
II
The happy Object of her EyeWas Sidney's living Arcady;
393
Desire in this all-lovely Maid;
That, whilst her Cheek a blush did warm,
I read Loves story in her form:
And of the Sisters the united grace,
Pamela's vigour in Philoclea's Face.
III
As on the brink this Nymph did sit,(Ah! who can such a Nymph forget?)
The floods straight dispossest their foam,
Proud so her mirrour to become;
And ran into a twirling Maze,
On her by that delay to gaze,
And, as they past, by streams succeeding force,
In losing her, murmur'd t'obey their course,
IV
She read not long, but clos'd the Book,And up her silent Lute she took,
Perchance to charm each wanton thought,
Youth, or her reading had begot.
394
Airs, as had birth from Orpheu's touch,
And every snowy finger, as she plai'd,
Danc't to the Musick that themselves had made.
V
At last she ceas'd: her odorous BedWith her enticing Limbs she spread,
With Limbs so excellent, I could
No more resist my factious blood:
But there, ah! there, I caught the Dame,
And boldly urg'd to her my flame:
I kiss'd: when her ripe Lips at every touch
Swell'd up to meet, what she would shun so much.
VI
I kiss'd, and plai'd in her bright Eyes,Discours'd, as is the Lovers guise,
Call'd her the Authress of my woe:
The Nymph was kind, but would not do,
Faith, she was kind, which made me bold,
Grow hot, as her denials cold.
395
With her soft pitty, than her Eyes before.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |