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421                                                  To Chloris

AH, Chloris! that I now could sit
   As unconcernd as when
Your infant beauty could beget
   No pleasure, nor no pain!
When I the dawn used to admire,
   And praised the coming day,
I little thought the growing fire
   Must take my rest away.
Your charms in harmless childhood lay
   Like metals in the mine;
Age from no face took more away
   Than youth conceald in thine.
But as your charms insensibly
   To their perfection prest,
Fond love as unperceived did fly,
   And in my bosom rest.
My passion with your beauty grew,
   And Cupid at my heart,
Still as his Mother favourd you,
   Threw a new flaming dart:
Each gloried in their wanton part;
   To make a lover, he
Employd the utmost of his art
   To make a beauty, she.

422                                                      To Celia

NOT, Celia, that I juster am
   Or better than the rest!
For I would change each hour, like them,
   Were not my heart at rest.
But I am tied to very thee
   By every thought I have;
Thy face I only care to see,
   Thy heart I only crave.
All that in woman is adored
   In thy dear self I find
For the whole sex can but afford
   The handsome and the kind.

Why then should I seek further store,
   And still make love anew?
When change itself can give no more,
   Tis easy to be true!


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