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TUSH! let them keep him, if they can;
He's not in hold, while you are free!
Come, weep no more! but pledge the man;
Who, though in fetters, yet can be
A prisoner unto none but thee!
Then, dry your tears! for every tear
Makes them, like drowned worlds to appear.

Post through the air, my fancy went;

And there stood by,

When he was brought to th' Parliament;

And, straight, 'To the bar! To the bar!' they cry.
The smiling Captain asked, 'Why?'

With that, they soon drew up his Charge.
Lady, you shall hear 't at large!

Imprimis. He is married late,

With a ring too! unto a Saint,
Would make the best of us amate!
Witty, pretty, young, and quaint;
And fairer than our wives can paint!
Her lips doth set men's teeth on edge;
Sure, that's a Breach of Privilege!..


This fair Delinquent hath

A pair of Organs in her throat;
Which, when she doth inspire with breath,
She can command in every note.
Her very hair, put in array,

Will fetter the Militia!

Her cheeks still Nature's pattern have;
Not yet called in!

But in them ingrossed all that is brave:
And other Ladies hucksters be;
Her beauty, the Monopoly !

When theirs 's gone, to her they come;
And chaffer in her face for some.

She hath an altar on her brow;

Her eyes are two fires, on each side, Where superstitious Lovers bow!

Her name is MARY too, beside!

'Let's clap him up, till further leisure;

[The Vote.]

And send for her, to wait our pleasure!'

Then go, fair Lady! follow him!

Fear no trumpet! fear no drum!

Fair women may prevail with Pyм;

And one sweet smile, when there you come,
Will quickly speak the Speaker dumb!

If not, then let one tear be spent;
And 'twill dissolve the Parliament!

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Go, lovely rose !

Tell her, that wastes her time and me, 'That now She knows,

When I resemble her to thee,

How sweet and fair She seems to be!'

Tell her, that's young,
And shuns to have her graces spied,
'That hadst thou sprung

In deserts, where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died!'

Small is the worth

Of Beauty, from the light retired!
Bid her, come forth!

Suffer herself to be desired;

And not blush so, to be admired!

Then, die! that She,

The common fate of all things rare
May read in thee!

How small a part of time they share;
That are so wondrous sweet and fair!

PEACE! babbling Muse!

I dare not sing what you indite!
Her eyes refuse

To read the Passion, which they write!


She strikes my lute; but if it sound,
Threatens to hurl it on the ground!
And I, no less her anger dread:

Than the poor wretch that feigns him dead;
While some fierce lion does embrace
His breathless corpse, and licks his face!
Wrapped up in silent fear he lies!
Torn all to pieces, if he cries!


NOT caring to observe the wind,
Or the new sea explore;
Snatched from myself, how far behind
Already I behold the shore!
May not a thousand dangers sleep
In the smooth bosom of this deep?
No! 'Tis so rockless, and so clear,
That the rich bottom does appear
Paved all with precious things; not torn
From shipwrecked vessels, but there born!

Sweetness, Truth, and every Grace

Which Time and Use are wont to teach;

The eye may in a moment reach!

And read distinctly in her face!

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Some other Nymph, with colours faint
And pencil slow, may, CUPID paint;
And a weak heart, in time, destroy!
She has a stamp! and prints the Boy!
Can, with a single look, inflame

The coldest breast; the rudest, tame!

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'Tis not your beauty can engage
My wary heart!

The sun, in all his pride and rage,
Has not that art;

And yet he shines as bright as you!
If brightness could our souls subdue.

'Tis not the pretty things you say,
Nor those you write,

Which can make THIRSIS' heart your prey!
For that delight,

(The graces of a well-taught mind!)
In some of our own sex we find!

No, FLAVIA! 'Tis your love I fear!

LOVE's surest darts,

Those which so seldom fail him, are
Headed with hearts!

Their very shadows make us yield!
Dissemble well; and win the Field!

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