ΤΟ The Picture of little T. C. in a Prospect of Flowers. What Colour best becomes them, and what Smell. Who can foretel for what high cause Appease this virtuous Enemy of Man! O then let me in time compound, In Triumph over Hears that strive, And them that yield but more despise. Let me be laid, Where I may see thy Glories from some Shade. 20 For as a Watch by art is wound To motion, such was mine: A Soul till she found thine; Which now inspires, cures and supplies, For thou art all that I can prize, My Joy, my Life, my Rest. No Bridegrooms nor Crown-conquerors mirth To mine compar❜d can be : They have but pieces of this Earth, I've all the World in thee. Then let our Flames still light and shine, And no false fear controul, As innocent as our Design, Immortal as our Soul. ΙΟ 20 Now we have gain'd, we must not stop, and sleep Out all the rest of our mysterious reign: It is as hard and glorious to keep A victory, as it is to obtain. Nay to what end did we once barter Minds, And love to have, but not to smell, the flower. Ah! then let Misers bury thus their Gold, Who though they starve, no farthing will produce: But we lov❜d to enjoy and to behold, And sure we cannot spend our stock by use. Think not 'tis needless to repeat desires; Although we know we love, yet while our Soul But to convey transactions through the Ear. Nay, though we read our passions in the Eye, Were't but to find that our Souls told us true. IO 20 30 Believe not then, that being now secure And as a River, when it once hath paid The tribute which it to the Ocean owes, Stops not, but turns, and having curl'd and play'd So the Soul's motion does not end in bliss, But then because it cannot all contain, When my Soul then doth such excursions make, Unless thy Soul delight to meet it too, What satisfaction can it give or take, Thou being absent at the interview? 'Tis not Distrust; for were that plea allow'd, If I distrust, 'tis my own worth for thee, 40 50 бо |