122 MATTHEW PRIOR. There needs, alas! but little art To have this fatal secret found; With the same ease you threw the dart, 'Tis certain you can show the wound. How can I see you, and not love, While you as opening east are fair? While cold as northern blasts you prove, How can I love, and not despair? The wretch, in double fetters bound, SONG. In vain you tell your parting Lover, Be gentle, and in pity choose FRANCIS ATTERBURY. Born 1662, died 1731-2. ON A FAN. Flavia the least and slightest toy That it wounds more than Cupid's bow; To every other breast—a flame I MATTHEW PRIOR. Born 1664, died 1721. SONG. While from our looks, fair nymph, you guess My heavy eyes, you say, confess 118 ANNE, MARCHIONESS OF WHARTON. Then talk not of inconstancy, False hearts and broken vows; If I, by miracle, can be This live-long minute true to thee, How hardly I conceal'd my tears, When many tedious days my fears But now my joys as wild are grown, I tell it to the bleating flocks, And bless the hollow-murmuring rocks For echoing back to me. Thus you may see with how much joy We want, we wish, believe: 'Tis hard such passion to destroy Where first my shipwreck'd heart was lost, GEORGE GRANVILLE LORD LANSDOWNE. Born 1667, died 1735. TO MIRA. No warning of th' approaching flame, In whom so many charms are plac'd, To what my eyes admir'd before, The object thus improv'd by thought, Polish'd the form that stung his heart. WILLIAM CONGREVE. Born 1672, died 1728. SONG. See, see, she wakes, Sabrina wakes! With light united, day they give; But different fates ere night fulfil : How many by his warmth will live! How many will her coldness kill! SONG. Cruel Amynta can you see A heart thus torn, which you betray'd? Love of himself ne'er vanquish'd me, But through your eyes the conquest made. In ambush there the traitor lay, Where I was led by faithless smiles ; No wretches are so lost as they Whom much security beguiles! |