Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. III. The Eighteenth Century: Addison to Blake

Matthew Prior (1664–1721)

To a Lady

She refusing to continue a dispute with me, and leaving me in the argument.

SPARE, generous Victor, spare the slave,

Who did unequal war pursue;

That more than triumph he might have,

In being overcome by you.

In the dispute whate’er I said,

My heart was by my tongue belied;

And in my looks you might have read

How much I argued on your side.

You, far from danger as from fear,

Might have sustained an open fight:

For seldom your opinions err;

Your eyes are always in the right.

Why, fair one, would you not rely

On Reason’s force with Beauty’s joined?

Could I their prevalence deny,

I must at once be deaf and blind.

Alas! not hoping to subdue,

I only to the fight aspired:

To keep the beauteous foe in view

Was all the glory I desired.

But she, howe’er of victory sure,

Contemns the wreath too long delayed;

And, armed with more immediate power,

Calls cruel silence to her aid.

Deeper to wound, she shuns the fight:

She drops her arms, to gain the field:

Secures her conquest by her flight;

And triumphs, when she seems to yield.

So when the Parthian turned his steed,

And from the hostile camp withdrew;

With cruel skill the backward reed

He sent; and as he fled, he slew.