Poems upon several occasions with, A voyage to the island of love / by Mrs. A. Behn.

The silent Confession.

AND tho' I do not speak, alas, My Eyes, and Sighs too much do say! And pale and languishing my Face, The torments of my Soul betray; They the sad story do unfold, Love cannot his own secrets hold; And though Fear ty's my Tongue; Respect my Eyes, Yet something will disclose the pain; Which breaking out throw's all disguise; Reproaches her with Cruelties; Which she augments by new disdain; —Where e're she be, I still am there; What-ere she do, I that prefer; In spight of all my strength, at her approach, I tremble with a sight or touch;

Paleness or Blushes does my Face surprize, If mine by chance meet her encountering Eyes; Twas thus she learn'd my VVeakness, and her Pow'r; And knew too well she was my Conqueror.

And now— Her Eyes no more their wonted Smiles afford, But grew more sierce, the more they were ador'd; The marks of her esteem which heretofore Rais'd my aspiring flame, oblige no more; She calls up all her Pride to her defence; And as a Crime condemns my just pretence; Me from her presence does in Fury chase; No supplications can my doom reverse; And vainly certain of her Victory, Retir'd into the Den of Cruelty.