Poetical exercises written upon several occasions presented and dedicated to Her Royal Highness, Mary, Princess of Orange.

About this Item

Title
Poetical exercises written upon several occasions presented and dedicated to Her Royal Highness, Mary, Princess of Orange.
Author
Cutts, John Cutts, Baron, 1661-1707.
Publication
London :: Printed for R. Bentley, and S. Magnes ...,
1687.
Rights/Permissions

To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.

Cite this Item
"Poetical exercises written upon several occasions presented and dedicated to Her Royal Highness, Mary, Princess of Orange." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A35525.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 24, 2024.

Pages

DESPAIR.

A SONG, set by Mr. Abel, Servant to His MAJESTY.

O You immortal Powers of Love, Why do you all my Hopes remove? You give me up to certain Fate, And force me to be desperate.

Page 55

Is it for this I've sacrific'd My Quiet, and the World despis'd? To burn, to bleed, to sigh, to groan, To Love, be wretched, and undone?
When first you did my Soul inspire, And I aproach'd your gentle Fire, Was I unwilling to forego My Ease, and be a Slave to you?
I hasten'd to the Myrtle Grove, And there an Altar rais'd to Love; On which my Heart still burning lies, Inflam'd, at first, by Phillis's Eyes.
She pull'd it from panting Breast, And in a Veil of Crimson drest,

Page 56

'Twas on the fatal Altar laid, By the too rash, unthinking Maid.
For, oh! I fear, she did prophane, And take Love's sacred Name in vain; For which unhappy Error, I, By injur'd Love, am doom'd to dye.
Do you have questions about this content? Need to report a problem? Please contact us.