Love

Love various minds does variously inspire; He stirs in gentle natures gentle fire, Like that of incense on the altar laid: But raging flames tempestuous souls invade: A fire, which every windy passion blows, With pride it mounts, and with revenge it glows.

The idle god of love supinely dreams, Amidst inglorious shades and purling streams; In rosy fetters, and fantastic chains, He binds deluded maids, and simple swains; With soft enjoyments, woos them to forget The hardy toils, and labour of the great: But, if the warlike trumpet's loud alarms To virtuous acts excite, and manly arms; The coward boy avows his abject fear, On silken wings sublime he cuts the air; Scar'd at the furious noise and thunder of the war.