| |
| FRUITION was the question in debate, | |
| Which like so hot a casuist I state, | |
| That she my freedom urged as my offense | |
| To teach my reason to subdue my sense; | |
| But yet this angry cloud, that did proclaim | 5 |
| Volleys of thunder, melted into rain; | |
| And this adult’rate stamp of seeming nice, | |
| Made feigned virtue but a bawd to vice; | |
| For, by a compliment that’s seldom known, | |
| She thrusts me out, and yet invites me home; | 10 |
| And these denials, but advance delight, | |
| As prohibition sharpens appetite; | |
| For the kind curtain raising my esteem, | |
| To wonder as the opening of the scene, | |
| When of her breast her hands the guardians were, | 15 |
| Yet I salute each sullen officer: | |
| Tho’ like the flaming sword before my eyes, | |
| They block the passage to my paradise; | |
| Nor could those tyrant-hands so guard the coin, | |
| But love, where’t cannot purchase, may purloin: | 20 |
| For tho’ her breasts are hid, her lips are prize, | |
| To make me rich beyond my avarice; | |
| Yet my ambition my affection fed, | |
| To conquer both the white rose and the red. | |
| The event proved true, for on the bed she sate | 25 |
| And seemed to court what she had seemed to hate; | |
| Heat of resistance had increased her fire, | |
| And weak defense is turned to strong desire. | |
| What unkind influence could interspose, | |
| When two such stars did in conjunction close? | 30 |
| Only too hasty zeal my hopes did foil, | |
| Pressing to feed her lamp, I spilt my oil; | |
| And that which most reproach upon me hurled, | |
| Was dead to her, gives life to all the world, | |
| Nature’s chief prop, and motion’s primest source, | 35 |
| In me lost both their figure and their force. | |
| Sad conquest! When it is the victor’s fate, | |
| To die at the entrance of the op’ning gate: | |
| Like prudent corporations had we laid | |
| A common stock by, we’d improved our trade; | 40 |
| But as a prodigal heir, I spent bye-the-bye, | |
| What, home directed, would serve her and I. | |
| When next in such assaults I chance to be, | |
| Give me less vigour, more activity; | |
| For love turns impotent, when strained too high; | 45 |
| His very cordials, make him sooner die, | |
| Evaporates in fume the fire too great; | |
| Love’s chemistry thrives best in equal heat. | |
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