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JOHN SHEFFIELD, DUKE OF
BUCKINGHAMSHIRE

1648-1721

428                                           The Reconcilement

COME, let us now resolve at last
   To live and love in quiet;
Well tie the knot so very fast
   That Time shall neer untie it.
The truest joys they seldom prove
   Who free from quarrels live:
Tis the most tender part of love
   Each other to forgive.
When least I seemd concernd, I took
   No pleasure nor no rest;
And when I feignd an angry look,
   Alas! I loved you best.
Own but the same to meyoull find
   How blest will be our fate.
O to be happyto be kind
   Sure never is too late!

429                                 On One who died discovering her
                                                          Kindness

SOME vex their souls with jealous pain,
While others sigh for cold disdain:
Loves various slaves we daily see
Yet happy all compared with me!
Of all mankind I loved the best
A nymph so far above the rest
That we outshined the Blest above;
In beauty she, as I in love.
And therefore They, who could not bear
To be outdone by mortals here,
Among themselves have placed her now,
And left me wretched here below.

All other fate I could have borne,
And even endured her very scorn;
But oh! thus all at once to find
That dread accountboth dead and kind!
What heart can hold? If yet I live,
Tis but to show how much I grieve.

 

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