The Second SONG

Sweet are the Charms of her I love, More fragrant than the Damask Rose; Soft as the Down of Turtle-Dove, Gentle as Winds when Zephyr blows; Refreshing as descending Rains, On Sun-burnt Climes, and thirsty Plains.

True as the Needle to the Pole, Or as the Dial to the Sun; Constant as gliding Waters roll, Whose swelling Tides obey the Moon: From ev'ry other Charmer free, My Life, and Love, shall follow thee.

The Lamb the flow'ry Thyme devours, The Dam the tender Kid pursues; Sweet Philomel, in shady Bow'rs, With verdant Spring her Notes renews: All follow what they most admire, As I pursue my Soul's Desire.

Nature must change her beauteous Face, And vary as the Seasons rise; As Winter to the Spring gives Place, Summer th' Approach of Autumn flies: No Change on Love the Seasons bring, Love only knows perpetual Spring.

Devouring Time, with stealing Pace, Makes lofty Oaks and Cedars bow; And Marble Tow'rs, and Gates of Brass, In his rude March he levels low: But Time, destroying far and wide, Love from the Soul can ne'er divide.

Death, only, with his cruel Dart, The gentle Godhead can remove; And drive him from the bleeding Heart, To mingle with the Blest above; Where, known to all his Kindred Train, He finds a lasting Rest from Pain.

Love, and his Sister fair, the Soul, Twin-born from Heav'n together came; Love will the Universe controul, When dying Seasons lose their Name: Divine Abodes shall own his Pow'r, When Time, and Death, shall be no more.