Whilst happy I Triumphant stood, The Pride and Glory of the Wood; My Aromatick Boughs and Fruit, Did with all other Trees dispute. Had right by Nature to excel, In pleasing both the tast and smell: But to the touch I must confess, Bore an ungrateful Sullenness. My Wealth, like bashful Virgins, I Yielded with some Reluctancy; For which my vallue should be more, Not giving easily my store. My verdant Branches all the year Did an Eternal Beauty wear; Did ever young and gay appear. Nor needed any tribute pay, For bounties from the God of Day: Nor do I hold Supremacy, (In all the Wood) o'er every Tree. But even those too of my own Race, That grow not in this happy place. But that in which I glory most, And do my self with Reason boast, Beneath my shade the other day, Young @3Philocles@1 and @3Cloris@1 lay, Upon my Root she lean'd her head, And where I grew, he made their Bed: Whilst I the Canopy more largely spread. Their trembling Limbs did gently press, The kind supporting yielding Grass: Ne'er half so blest as now, to bear A Swain so Young, a Nimph so fair: My Grateful Shade I kindly lent, And every aiding Bough I bent. So low, as sometimes had the blisse, To rob the Shepherd of a kiss, Whilst he in Pleasures far above The Sence of that degree of Love: Permitted every stealth I made, Unjealous of his Rival Shade. I saw 'em kindle to desire, Whilst with soft sighs they blew the fire: Saw the approaches of their joy, He growing more fierce, and she less Coy, Saw how they mingled melting Rays, Exchanging Love a thousand ways. Kind was the force on every side, Her new desire she could not hide: Nor wou'd the Shepherd be deny'd. Impatient he waits no consent But what she gave by Languishment, The blessed Minute the pursu'd; And now transported in his Arms, Yeilds to the Conqueror all her Charmes, His panting Breast, to hers now join'd, They feast on Raptures unconfin'd; Vast and Luxuriant, such as prove The Immortality of Love. For who but a Divinitie, Could mingle Souls to that Degree; And melt 'em into Extasie. Now like the @3Phenix@1, both Expire, While from the Ashes of their fire, Sprung up a new, and soft desire. Like Charmers, thrice they did invoke, The God! and thrice new vigor took. Nor had the Mysterie ended there, But @3Cloris@1 reassum'd her fear, And chid the Swain, for having prest, What she alas wou'd not resist: Whilst he in whom Loves sacred flame, Before and after was the same, Fondly implor'd she wou'd forget A fault, which he wou'd yet repeat. From Active Joyes with some they hast, To a Reflexion on the past; A thousand times my Covert bless, That did secure their Happiness: Their Gratitude to every Tree They pay, but most to happy me; The Shepherdess my Bark carest, Whilst he my Root, Love's Pillow, kist; And did with sighs, their Fate deplore, Since I must shelter them no more; And if before my Joyes were such, In having heard, and seen too much, My Grief must be as great and high, When all abandon'd I shall be, Doom'd to a silent Destinie. No more the Charming strife to hear, The Shepherds Vows, the Virgins fear: No more a joyful looker on, Whilst Loves soft Battel's lost and won. With grief I bow'd my murmering Head, And all my Christal Dew I shed. Which did in @3Cloris@1 Pity move, (@3Cloris@1 whose Soul is made of Love;) She cut me down, and did translate, My being to a happier state. No Martyr for Religion di'd With half that Unconsidering Pride; My top was on that Altar laid, Where Love his softest Offerings paid: And was as fragrant Incense burn'd, My body into Busks was turn'd: Where I still guard the Sacred Store, And of Loves Temple keep the Door. |