A Song

How blest was the Created State Of Man and Woman e're they fell, Compar'd to our unhappy Fate, We need not fear another Hell!

Naked, beneath cool Shades, they lay, Enjoyment waited on Desire: Each Member did their Wills obey, Nor could a Wish set Pleasure higher.

But we, poor Slaves, to Hope and Fear, Are never of our Joys secure; They lessen still, as they draw near, And none but dull Delights endure.

Then, Chloris, while I Duty pay, The nobler Tribute of my Heart, Be not you so severe to say, You love me for a frailer Part.

All my past Life is mine no more, The flying Hours are gone: Like transitory Dreams giv'n o'er, Whose Images are kept in store, By Memory alone.

The Time that is to come is not; How can it then be mine? The present Moment's all my Lot; And that, as fast as it is got, Phillis, is only thine.

Then talk not of Inconstancy, False Hearts, and broken Vows; If I, by Miracle, can be This live long Minute true to thee, 'Tis all that Heav'n allows.

While on those lovely Looks I gaze, To see a Wretch pursuing; In Raptures of a blest Amaze, His pleasing happy Ruin; 'Tis not for pity that I move; His Fate is to aspiring, Whose Heart, broke with a Load of Love, Dies wishing and admiring.

But if this Murder you'd forego, Your Slave from Death removing; Let me your Art of Charming know, Or learn you mine of loving. But whether Life, or Death, betide, In Love it's equal Measure, The Victor lives with empty Pride; The Vanquish'd die with Pleasure.

Love a Woman! you're an Ass, 'Tis a most insipid Passion; To chuse out for your Happiness, The silliest Part of God's Creation.

Let the Porter, and the Groom, Things design'd for dirty Slaves; Drudge in fair Aurelia's Womb, To get Supplies for Age and Graves.

Farewel, Woman, I intend, Henceforth, ev'ry Night to sit With my lewd well-natur'd Friend, Drinking to engender Wit.

To this moment a Rebel, I throw down my Arms, Great Love, at first Sight of Olinda's bright Charms: Made proud, and secure by such Forces as these, You may now play the Tyrant as soon as you please.

When Innocence, Beauty, and Wit do conspire, To betray, and engage, and inflame my Desire, Why should I decline what I cannot avoid, And let pleasing Hope by base Fear be destroy'd?

Her Innocence cannot contrive to undo me, Her Beauty's inclin'd, or why shou'd it pursue me? And Wit has to Pleasure been ever a Friend, Then what room for Despair since Delight is Love's End.

There can be no danger in Sweetness and Youth, Where Love is secur'd by Good-nature and Truth: On her Beauty I'll gaze, and of Pleasure complain; While every kind Look adds a Link to my Chain.

'Tis more to maintain, than it was to surprize, But her Wit leads in Triumph the Slave of her Eyes: I beheld, with the Loss of my Freedom before, But hearing, for ever must serve and adore.

Too bright is my Goddess, her Temple too weak: Retire, Divine Image! I feel my Heart break. Help, Love, I dissolve in a Rapture of Charms; At the thought of those Joys I shou'd meet in her Arms.

'Tis not that I am weary grown Of being yours, and yours alone: But with what Face can I incline, To damn you to be only mine? You, whom some kinder Pow'r did fashion, } By Merit, and by Inclination, } The Joy at least of a whole Nation. }

Let meaner Spirits of your Sex, With humble Aims their Thoughts perplex: And boast, if, by their Arts they can Contrive to make one happy Man. While, mov'd by an impartial Sense, } Favours, like Nature you dispense, } With universal Influence. }

See the kind Seed-receiving Earth, To ev'ry Grain affords a Birth: On her no Show'rs unwelcom fall, Her willing Womb retains 'em all. And shall my Cælia be confin'd? } No, live up to thy mighty Mind; } And be the Mistress of Mankind. }

Vulcan contrive me such a Cup As Nestor us'd of old: Shew all thy Skill to trim it up; Damask it round with Gold.

Make it so large that, fill'd with Sack Up to the swelling Brim, Vast Toasts on the delicious Lake, Like Ships at Sea, may swim.

Engrave not Battel on his Cheek; With War I've nought to do: I'm none of those that took Mastrick, Nor Yarmouth Leaguer knew.

Let it no Name of Planets tell, Fixt Stars, or Constellations: For I am no Sir Sindrophel, Nor none of his Relations.

But carve thereon a spreading Vine; Then add two lovely Boys; Their Limbs in amorious Folds intwine, The Type of future Joys.

Cupid and Bacchus my Saints are; May Drink and Love still reign: With Wine I wash away my Cares, And then to Love again.

As Chloris full of harmless Thoughts Beneath a Willow lay, Kind Love a youthful Shepherd brought, To pass the Time away.

She blusht to be encounter'd so, And chid the amorous Swain: But as she strove to rise and go, He pull'd her down again.

A sudden Passion seized her Heart, In spight of her Disdain; She found a Pulse in ev'ry Part, And Love in ev'ry Vein.

Ah, Youth! (said she) what Charms are these, That conquer and surprize? Ah! let me—for unless you please, I have no Power to rise.

She fainting spoke, and trembling lay, For fear he should comply Her lovely Eyes her Heart betray, And give her Tongue the Lye.

Thus she whom Princes had deny'd, With all their Pomp and Train; Was, in the lucky Minute, try'd, And yielded to a Swain.

Give me leave to rail at you, I ask nothing but my due; To call you false, and then to say You shall not keep my Heart a Day: But, alas! against my Will, I must be your Captive still. Ah! be kinder then; for I Cannot change, and would not die.

Kindness has resistless Charms, All besides but weakly move; Fiercest Anger it disarms, And clips the Wings of flying Love. Beauty does the Heart invade, Kindness only can persuade; It gilds the Lover's servile Chain, And makes the Slaves grow pleas'd again.