Oh, fountains! when in you shall I Myfelf, eas'd of unpeaceful thoughts, efpy? Oh fields! oh woods! when, when shall I be made. The happy tenant of your shade? Here's the fpring-head of pleasure's flood; Where all the riches lie, that she Has coin'd and ftamp'd for good... Pride and ambition here, Here nought but winds can hurtful murmurs fcatter, The Gods, when they defcended, hither From heaven did always chufe their way; And therefore we may boldly fay, That 'tis the way too thither. How happy here should I,. And one dear She, live, and embracing die ! : I should have then this only fear- MY MY D I E T. NOW, by my Love, the greatest oath that is, None loves you half fo well as I I do not ask your love for this; His mafter should believe that he does ferve; 'Tis no luxurious diet this, and fure I shall not by 't too lufty prove; If 't can but keep together life and love. I do not feafts and banquets look to have; On a figh of pity I a year can live; One tear will keep me twenty, at least ; An hundred years on one kind word I'll feast & : If you an inclination have for me; THE TH HOU robb'ft my days of business and delights, Ah, lovely thief! what wilt thou do? Thou ev'n my prayers doft steal from me; Begin to God, and end them all to thee. Is it a fin to love, that it should thus, From books I ftrive fome remedy to take, But thy name all the letters make ;, What do I feek, alas! or why do I I gave thee then ubiquity. My pains resemble hell in this; The divine prefence there too is, But to torment men, not to give them bliss. ALL "T IS well, 'tis well with them, fay I, Whofe fhort-liv'd paffions with themselves can die: For none can be unhappy, who, 'Midft all his ills, a time does know Whatever parts of me remain, But, like a God, by powerful art 'Twas all in all, and all in every part. My' affection no more perish can Mix'd with another's fubftance be, Let Nature, if she please, difperfe My atoms over all the universe; At the last they easily shall Themselves know, and together call; For thy love, like a mark, is ftamp'd on all. N WOW, fure, within this twelvemonth past, I 'ave lov'd at least fome twenty years or more: Than that with which our life does fcore: Not that Love's hours or minutes are Shorter than those our being 's measur'd by ; But they're more clofe compacted far, And fo in leffer room do lie: Thin airy things extend themselves in space, Yet Love, alas! and Life, in me, Are not two feveral things, but purely one; A double, different motion? Oyes, there may; for fo the felf-fame fun Swiftly his daily journey he goes, But treads his annual with a statelier pace; At once, with double course in the same sphere, When |