Here at the fountain's sliding foot, Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root,...
|
Self-preservation, nature's first great law, all the creatures, except man, doth awe.
|
Two Paradises t'were in one, to live in Paradise alone.
|
The forward Youth that would appear Must now forsake his Muses dear, Nor in the Shadows sing His Numbers languishing.
|
But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near;...
|
Like an enchantress here thou show'st, Vexing thy restless lover's ghost;...
|
Or shatter too with him my curious frame: And let these wither, so that he may die,...
|
Here thou art painted in the dress Of an inhuman murderess;...
|
The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace.
|
And shew that Nature wants an Art To conquer one resolved Heart.
|