COME, let us now resolve at last
To live and love in quiet :
We'll tie the knot so very fast,
That time shall ne'er untie it..
The truest joys they seldom prove,
Who free from quarrels live;
"Tis the most tender part of love,
Each other to forgive.
When least I seem'd concern'd, I took
No pleasure, nor no rest ;
And when I feign'd an angry look,
Alas! I loved you best.
Own but the same to me, you'll find
How blest will be our fate;
Oh, to be happy, to be kind,
Sure never is too late.
SHEFFIELD, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 221
WHENE'ER my foolish bent to publick good,
Or fonder zeal for some misguided prince,
Shall make my dangerous humour understood,
For changing ministers for men of sense :
When, vainly proud to show my publick care,
And even ashamed to see three nations fool'd,
I shall no longer bear a wretched share,
In ruling ill, or being over-ruled:
Then, as old teachers in a winters' night,..
To yawning hearers all their pranks disclose;
And what decay deprives them of delight,
Supply with vain endeavours to impose:
Just so shall I as idly entertain
Some stripling patriots, fond of seeming wise ; Tell, how I still could great employments gain, Without concealing truths, or whispering lies!
Boast of succeeding in my country's cause,
Even against some almost too high to blame;
Whom, when advanced beyond the reach of laws;
I oft had ridiculed to sense and shame;
That the world may ne'er invade,
Through such windings, and such shade, My unshaken liberty.
No intruders thither come!
Who visit, but to be from home;
None who their vain moments pass,
Only studious of their glass,
News, that charm to listening ears,
That false alarm to hopes and fears,
That common theme for every fop,
From the statesman to the shop,
In those coverts ne'er be spread.
Of who's deceased, or who's to wed,
Be no tidings thither brought,
But silent, as a midnight thought,
Where the world may ne'er invade,
Be those windings, and that shade:
Courteous Fate! afford me there
A table spread without my care,
With what the neighb'ring fields impart,
Whose cleanliness be all it's art,
When, of old, the calf was drest,
(Though to make an angel's feast)
ANNE, COUNTESS OF WINCHELSEA. 225
In the plain, unstudied sauce,
Nor Treufle, nor Morillia was ;
Nor could the mighty patriarch's board
One far-fetch'd Ortolane afford.
Courteous Fate, then give me there
Only plain and wholesome fare.
Fruits indeed (would Heaven bestow)
All, that did in Eden grow,
All, but the Forbidden Tree,
Would be coveted by me;
Grapes, with juice so crouded up,
As breaking thro' the native cup;
Figs, yet growing, candy'd o'er,
By the Sun's attracting power;
Cherries, with the downy peach,
All within my easie reach ;
Whilst creeping near the humble ground,
Should the strawberry be found
Springing wheresoe'er I stray'd,
Through those windings and that shade.
Give me there (since Heaven has shown
It was not good to be alone)
A partner suited to my mind,
Solitary, pleased, and kind;
Who, partially, may something see
Preferr'd to all the world in me;
Slighting, by my humble side,
Fame and splendour, wealth and pride.
When but two the earth possest,
'Twas their happiest days, and best ;
They by bus'ness, nor by wars,
They by no domestick cares,
From each other e'er were drawn,
But in some grove, or flowery lawn,
Spent the swiftly flying time,
Spent their own, and Nature's prime,
In love; that only passion given
To perfect man, whilst friends with Heaven.
Rage, and jealousies, and hate,
Transports of his fallen state,
When by Satan's wiles betray'd
Fly those windings, and that shade!
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