Complete Works of Matthew Prior

by Matthew Prior

  And laugh at the dull constant fool, 10

  Who would love’s liberty control,

  And teach us how to whine by rule.

  Let us no impositions set,

  Or dogs upon each other’s heart;

  But, as for pleasure first we met,

  So now for pleasure let us part.

  We both have spent our stock of love,

  So consequently should be free;

  Thyrsis expects you in yon grove;

  And pretty Chloris stays for me. 20

  VII. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  PHILLIS, this pious talk give o’er,

  And modestly pretend no more

  It is too plain an art:

  Surely you take me for a fool,

  And would by this prove me so dull,

  As not to know your heart.

  In vain you fancy to deceive,

  For truly I can ne’er believe

  But this is all a sham;

  Since any one may plainly see,

  You’d only save yourself with me,

  And with another damn.

  VIII. SET BY MR. SMITH.

  STILL, Dorinda, I adore;

  Think I mean not to deceive you

  For I lov’d you much before,

  And, alas I now love you more,

  Though I force myself to leave you.

  Staying, I my vows shall fail;

  Virtue yields, as love grows stronger;

  Fierce desires will sure prevail;

  You are fair; and I am frail,

  And dare trust myself no longer. 10

  You, my love, too nicely coy,

  Lest I should have gain’d the treasure,

  Made my vows and oaths destroy

  The pleasing hopes I did enjoy

  Of all my future peace and pleasure.

  To my vows I have been true,

  And in silence hid my anguish,

  But I cannot promise too

  What my love may make me do,

  While with her for whom I languish.

  For in thee strange magic lies, 20

  And my heart is too, too tender;

  Nothing’s proof against those eyes,

  Best resolves and strictest ties

  To their force must soon surrender.

  But, Dorinda, you’re severe,

  I most doting, thus to sever;

  Since from all I hold most dear,

  That you may no longer fear,

  I divorce myself for ever.

  IX. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  IS it, O love, thy want of eyes,

  Or by the Fates decreed.

  That hearts so seldom sympathise,

  Or for each other bleed?

  If thou wouldst make two youthful hearts

  One amorous shaft obey;

  ’Twould save thee the expense of darts,

  And more extend thy sway.

  Forbear, alas! thus to destroy

  Thyself, thy growing power;

  For that which would be stretch’d by joy,

  Despair will soon devour.

  Ah! wound then, my relentless fair,

  For thy own sake and mine;

  That boundless bliss may be my share,

  And double glory thine,

  X. SET BY MR. SMITH.

  WHY, Harry, what ails you? why look you so sad?

  To think and ne’er drink, will make you stark mad.

  ’Tis the mistress, the friend, and the bottle, old boy!

  Which create all the pleasure poor mortals enjoy;

  But wine of the three is the most cordial brother,

  For one it relieves, and it strengthens the other.

  XI. SET BY MR. SMITH.

  SINCE my words, though ne’er so tender,

  With sincerest truth exprest,

  Cannot make your heart surrender,

  Nor so much as warm your breast:

  What will move the springs of nature?

  What will make you think me true?

  Tell me, thou mysterious creature.

  Tell poor Strephon what will do!

  Do not, Charmion, rack your lover

  Thus by seeming not to know 10

  What so plainly all discover,

  What his eyes so plainly show.

  Fair one, ’tis yourself deceiving,

  ’Tis against your reason’s laws:

  Atheist-like th’ effect perceiving,

  Still to disbelieve the cause.

  XII. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  MORELLA, charming without art,

  And kind without design,

  Can never lose the smallest part

  Of such a heart as mine.

  Oblig’d a thousand several ways,

  It ne’er can break her chains;

  While passion, which her beauties raise,

  My gratitude maintains.

  XIII SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  LOVE, inform thy faithful creature

  How to keep his fair one’s heart;

  Must it be by truth of nature,

  Or by poor dissembling art?

  Tell the secret, show the wonder,

  How we both may gain our ends; I

  am lost if we’re asunder,

  Ever tortur’d if we’re friends.

  XIV. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  TOUCH the lyre, on every string,

  Touch it, Orpheus, I will sing,

  A song which shall immortal be;

  Since she I sing’s a deity:

  A Leonora, whose blest birth

  Has no relation to this earth.

  XV. SET BY MR. SMITH.

  ONCE I was unconfin’d and free,

  Would I had been so still!

  Enjoying sweetest liberty,

  And roving at my will.

  But now, not master of my heart,

  Cupid does so decide,

  That two she-tyrants shall it part,

  And so poor me divide.

  Victoria’s will I must obey,

  She acts without control: 10

  Phillis has such a taking way,

  She charms my very soul.

  Deceiv’d by Phillis’ looks and smiles,

  Into her snares I run:

  Victoria shows me all her wiles

  Which yet I dare not shun.

  From one I fancy every kiss

  Has something in’t divine;

  And, awful, taste the balmy bliss,

  That joins her lips with mine. 20

  But, when the other I embrace,

  Though she be not a queen,

  Methinks ’tis sweet with such a lass

  To tumble on the green.

  Thus here you see a shared heart,

  But I, meanwhile, the fool:

  Each in it has an equal part,

  But neither yet the whole.

  Nor will it, if I right forecast,

  To either wholly yield:

  I find the time approaches fast,

  When both must quit the field.

  XVI. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  FAREWELL, Amynta, we must part

  The charm has lost its power,

  Which held so fast my captiv’d heart

  Until this fatal hour.

  Hadst thou not thus my love abus’d,

  And us’d me ne’er so ill,

  Thy cruelty I had excus’d,

  And I had lov’d thee still.

  But know, my soul disdains thy sway,

  And scorns thy charms and thee,

  To which each fluttering coxcomb may

  As welcome be as me.

  Think in what perfect bliss you reign’d,

  How lov’d before thy fall;

  And now, alas! how much disdain’d

  By me, and scorn’d by all.

  Yet thinking of each happy hour,

  Which I with thee have spent,

  So robs my rage of all its power

  That I almost relent. 30

  But pride will never let me bow,

 
No more thy charms can move

  Yet thou art worth my pity now,

  Because thou hadst my love.

  XVII. SET BY MR. SMITH.

  ACCEPT, my love, as true a heart

  As ever lover gave:

  ’Tis free (it vows) from any art,

  And proud to be your slave.

  Then take it kindly, as ’twas meant,

  And let the giver live:

  Who with it would the world have sent,

  Had it been his to give.

  And, that Dorinda may not fear

  I e’er will prove untrue,

  My vows shall, ending with the year,

  With it begin anew.

  XVIII. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  NANNY blushes when I woo her,

  And, with kindly-chiding eyes,

  Faintly says, I shall undo her,

  Faintly, O forbear! she cries.

  But her breasts while I am pressing,

  While to hers my lips I join,

  Warm’d she seems to taste the blessing,

  And her kisses answer mine.

  Undebauch’d by rules of honour,

  Innocence with nature charms; 10

  One bids, gently push me from her,

  The other, take me in her arms.

  XIX. SET BY MR. SMITH.

  SINCE we your husband daily see

  So jealous out of season,

  Phillis, let you and I agree

  To make him so with reason.

  I’m vext to think, that every night

  A sot, within thy arms,

  Tasting the most divine delight,

  Should sully all your charms;

  While fretting I must lie alone,

  Cursing the powers divine,

  That undeservedly have thrown

  A pearl unto a swine.

  Then, Phillis, heal my wounded heart,

  My burning passion cool;

  Let me at least in thee have part

  With thy insipid fool.

  XX. SET BY C. R.

  PHILLIS, give this humour over,

  We too long have time abus’d;

  I shall turn an arrant rover,

  If the favour’s still refus’d.

  Faith! ’tis nonsense out of measure,

  Without ending thus to see

  Women forc’d to taste a pleasure

  Which they love as well as we.

  Let not pride and folly share you,

  We were made but to enjoy;

  Ne’er will age or censure spare you,

  E’er the more for being coy.

  Never fancy time’s before you,

  Youth, believe me, will away;

  Then, alas! who will adore you,

  Or to wrinkles tribute pay?

  All the swains on you attending

  Show how much your charms deserve:

  But, miser like, for fear of spending,

  You amidst your plenty starve. 20

  While a thousand freer lasses,

  Who their youth and charms employ,

  Though your beauty theirs surpasses,

  Live in far more perfect joy.

  XXI. HASTE MY NANNETTE, MY LOVELY MAID

  HASTE my Nannette, my lovely maid,

  Haste to the bower thy swain has made;

  For thee alone I made the bower,

  And strew’d the couch with many a flower.

  None but my sheep shall near us come:

  Venus be prais’d! my sheep are dumb.

  Great god of love! take thou my crook,

  To keep the wolf from Nannette’s flock.

  Guard thou the sheep, to her so dear;

  My own, alas! are less my care. 10

  But, of the wolf if thou’rt afraid,

  Come not to us to call for aid;

  For with her swain my love shall stay,

  Though the wolf prowl, and the sheep stray.

  XXII. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  SINCE by ill fate I’m forc’d away,

  And snatch’d so soon from those dear arms;

  Against my will I must obey,

  And leave those sweet endearing charms..

  Yet still love on; and never fear,

  But you and constancy will prove

  Enough my present flame to bear,

  And make me, though in absence, love.

  For though your presence fate denies,

  I feel, alas! the killing smart; 10

  And can with undiscerned eyes

  Behold your picture in my heart.

  XXIII. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  IN vain, alas! poor Strephon tries

  To ease his tortur’d breast;

  Since Amoret the cure denies,

  And makes his pain a jest.

  Ah! fair one, why to me so coy?

  And why to him so true,

  Who with more coldness slights the joy,

  Than I with love pursue?

  Die then, unhappy lover! die;

  For, since she gives thee death, 10

  The world has nothing that can buy

  A minute more of breath.

  Yet, though I could your scorn outlive,

  ‘Twere folly; since to me

  Not love itself a joy can give,

  But, Amoret, in thee.

  XXIV. BY MR. DE FESCH.

  WELL! I will never more complain,

  Or call the fates unkind;

  Alas! how fond it is, how vain!

  But self-conceitedness does reign

  In every mortal mind.

  ’Tis true they long did me deny,

  Nor would permit a sight;

  I rag’d; for I could not espy,

  Or think that any harm could lie

  Disguis’d in that delight. 10

  At last, my wishes to fulfill,

  They did their power resign;

  I saw her; but I wish I still

  Had been obedient to their will,

  And they not unto mine.

  Yet I by this have learnt the wit,

  Never to grieve or fret:

  Contentedly I will submit,

  And think that best which they think fit,

  Without the least regret. 20

  XXV. SET BY MR. C. R.

  CHLOE beauty has and wit,

  And an air that is not common;

  Every charm in her does meet,

  Fit to make a handsome woman.

  But we do not only find

  Here a lovely face or feature;

  For she’s merciful and kind,

  Beauty’s answer’d by good nature.

  She is always doing good,

  Of her favours never sparing, 10

  And, as all good Christians should,

  Keeps poor mortals from despairing.

  Jove the power knew of her charms,

  And that no man could endure them,

  So, providing ‘gainst all harms,

  Gave to her the power to cure them.

  And ’twould be a cruel thing,

  When her black eyes have rais’d desire,

  Should she not her bucket bring,

  And kindly help to quench the fire. 20

  XXVI. MOGGY, I MUN BID ADIEU

  Moggy, I mun bid adieu,

  How can I help despairing?

  Let cruel fate us still pursue,

  There’s nought more worth my caring.

  ’Twas she alone could calm my soul,

  When racking thoughts did grieve me;

  Her eyes my trouble could control,

  And into joys deceive me.

  Farewell, ye brooks; no more along

  Your banks mun I be walking: 10

  No more you’ll hear my pipe or song,

  Or pretty Moggy’s talking.

  But I by death an end will give

  To grief, since we mun sever:

  For who can after parting live,

  Ought to be wretched ever.

  XXVII. SOME KIND ANGEL, GENTLY FLYING

  SOME kind a
ngel, gently flying,

  Mov’d with pity at my pain,

  Tell Corinna, I am dying,

  Till with joy we meet again.

  Tell Corinna, since we parted,

  I have never known delight:

  And shall soon be broken-hearted,

  If I longer want her sight.

  Tell her how her lover, mourning,

  Thinks each lazy day a year; 10

  Cursing every morn returning,

  Since Corinna is not here.

  Tell her too, not distant places,

  Will she be but true and kind,

  Join’d with time and change of faces,

  E’er shall shake my constant mind.

  XXVIII. NELLY.

  WHILST others proclaim

  This nymph or that swain.

  Dearest Nelly the lovely I’ll sing;

  She shall grace every verse,

  I’ll her beauties rehearse,

  Which lovers can’t think an ill thing.

  Her eyes shine as bright

  As stars in the night,

  Her complexion divinely is fair;

  Her lips, red as a cherry, 10

  Would a hermit make merry,

  And black as a coal is her hair.

  Her breath, like a rose,

  Its sweets does disclose,

  Whenever you ravish a kiss;

  Like ivory enchas’d,

  Her teeth are well plac’d,

  An exquisite beauty she is.