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(From Works in Prose and Verse, 1730)
EASY to love, much easier to change, | |
| Uncircumscribed my wanton passions range. | |
| With sure success each fair enchanter sets, | |
| Toils for my heart, and spreads her blooming nets; | |
| The faithless wanton soon a freedom gains, | 5 |
| And from another feels repeated chains. | |
| To every saint I most devoutly fall, | |
| My superstitious love adores them all; | |
| I swear by love, and by the pain he brings, | |
| My soul’s inconstant as the wanton’s wings; | 10 |
| No lovely maid could ever fix my mind, | |
| Or all my heart in love’s soft circles bind; | |
| Too partial fate, to frame my soul for joys, | |
| Which my uncertain temper soon destroys: | |
| Whilst for each fair successively I burn, | 15 |
| My roving heart meets no sincere return. | |
| Come then, great God of Love, and take my part, | |
| And fix forever my inconstant heart; | |
| Why will you see your faithful slave abused, | |
| The pleasing pain of loving long refused? | 20 |
| Why must I make my solemn vows in vain? | |
| I, who your empire did so well maintain? | |
| I, who so far did love’s soft power extend, | |
| And made the chaste before your altars bend? | |
| Hear but this once with a propitious ear, | 25 |
| And by yourself, and Venus’ eyes, I swear, | |
| A thousand offerings each returning day | |
| My grateful heart shall most devoutly pay; | |
| Hear me, Great God, and grant my last request, | |
| Since no terrestrial maid can charm my breast; | 30 |
| Make one on purpose, and from every fair | |
| Some beauty snatch, to make the charmer rare; | |
| There to begin, whence love himself does rise, | |
| Let her have Sylvia’s kind engaging eyes, | |
| In which dear circles all incentives move | 35 |
| To cause, confirm, and entertain my love. | |
| His surest net, their wanton Cupid lays, | |
| And as he wounds, about her eye-balls plays. | |
| Sometimes how soft and charming they appear! | |
| Sometimes tyrannic, with a look severe, | 40 |
| They drive the worthiest lover to despair. | |
| Wisdom and sense in vain her victims aid, | |
| To break her chains, too strong her eyes persuade. | |
| Armida’s neck with grateful motion turn, | |
| Where purple streams in winding channels run; | 45 |
| Next place, Serena’s white enchanting breast, | |
| On which imperial Jove himself might rest; | |
| To melt the touch, those lovely hills arise, | |
| And every motion does our sense surprise. | |
| But oh! two snowy mounts, so near her heart, | 50 |
| Still keep it cold, and quench love’s hottest dart; | |
| Between those hills a milky way there leads, | |
| Not to the skies, or to the Elysian Meads; | |
| But here’s a path to greater pleasures shown, | |
| For which the Gods have oft forsook their own. | 55 |
| Happy’s the man enters this sacred grove, | |
| And treads the mazes of mysterious love. | |
| And next, great love, below this charming breast, | |
| Lesbia’s engaging belly must be placed, | |
| A cupola to the most awful shrine, | 60 |
| Whence comes your power, which mortals make divine. | |
| This is the truest Heliconian spring, | |
| By which inspired bards first learned to sing; | |
| Venus her charms, Phœbus his silver bow, | |
| Jove does his thunder to the poets owe. | 65 |
| The gods themselves by their assistance live, | |
| Eternal fame their deathless pages give. | |
| If more perfections you expect below, | |
| Her legs and feet must bright Almeria show. | |
| Gods! how she takes me with a vast surprise! | 70 |
| Oh love! how charming is thy paradise! | |
| Next, over all, must Phryne’s skin be drawn | |
| Lucid and clear as the first orient dawn, | |
| Thro’ which most lovely and unfaithful screen | |
| The various passions of the soul are seen; | 75 |
| And all the tumults of her virgin breast, | |
| By fear, disdain, or softer love possest. | |
| To Laura’s waist, let Lydia’s air invite, | |
| A dear temptation to that straight delight: | |
| From her Apelles might his pattern take; | 80 |
| From her alone a brighter Venus make: | |
| Let her, like Chloe, tread an even pace, | |
| And print, in every step she takes, a grace; | |
| May she in measure like Clarinda move, | |
| And sing as charming as the saints above. | 85 |
| Let Laura’s air in every act appear, | |
| Raising desire, and yet commanding fear. | |
| And next, great God, that she may nothing want, | |
| Of all that I can ask or you can grant; | |
| Let her, oh let her! Like dear Clarissa kiss; | 90 |
| Like her, transport me with surprising bliss. | |
| Help me, ye powers of love, I faint, I die, | |
| The thought screws nature to a pitch too high: | |
| Scarcely my breast my fleeting soul retains, | |
| And gusts of pleasure hurry through my veins. | 95 |
| One touch of hers—— | |
| More bliss contains than pampered prelates prove | |
| In snatched embraces of forbidden love. | |
| To my last prayer, propitious love, be kind, | |
| And make the fair bewitching in her mind. | 100 |
| Good sense and wit in the same person joined, | |
| Seldom our strictest inquisitions find; | |
| Unite two stocks to form the witty she, | |
| Dorinda’s sense, and Flavia’s repartee. | |
| The wanton God smiled on his humble slave, | 105 |
| As when Adonis he his mother gave; | |
| When straight heaven’s gates, by love’s supreme command, | |
| Were open set; for what can love withstand? | |
| Soft breezing Zephyrs bring the virgin down, | |
| A gift divine that must my passion crown; | 110 |
| I threw myself devoutly at her feet, | |
| Where all perfections, all the graces meet; | |
| But by the God commanded to arise, | |
| I saw Armida, to my vast surprise, | |
| So rich in charms, and so divine her air, | 115 |
| The queen of love was scarce herself so fair; | |
| With eager arms I clasped the lovely maid, | |
| My humble thanks to mighty love I paid, | |
| And as I wanted nothing else, for nothing prayed. | |
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