Poems, and translations by the author of the Satyrs upon the Jesuits.

BOOK II. ELEGY X. To a Friend, Acquainting him, that he is in Love with two at one time.

Tu mihi, tu certè (memini) Graecine, negabas, &c.

I'VE heard, my Friend, and heard it said by you, No Man at once could ever well love two: But I was much deceiv'd upon that score, For single I at once love one, and more: Two at one time reign joyntly in my Breast, Both handsom are, both charming, both well-dress'd, And hang me, if I know, which takes me best:

This Fairer is than that, and that than this, That more than this, and this than that does please: Tost, like a Ship, by diff'rent gusts of Love, Now to this point, and now to that I move. Why, Love, why do'st thou double thus my pains? Was't not enough to bear one Tyrant's chains? Why, Goddess, do'st thou vainly lavish more On one, that was top-full of Love before? Yet thus I'd rather love, than not at all, May that ill Curse my Enemies befal: May my worst Foe be damn'd to love of none, Be damn'd to Continence, and lie alone: Let Loves alarms each night disturb my Rest, And drowsie sleep never approach my Breast, Or strait-way thence be by new Pleasure chas'd. Let Pleasures in succession keep my Sense Ever awake, or ever in a Trance: Let me lie melting in my fair One's Arms, Riot in Bliss, and surfeit on her Charms:

Let her undo me there without controul, Drain nature quite, suck out my very Soul! And, if by one I can't enough be drawn, Give me another, clap more Leeches on. The Gods have made me of the sporting kind, And for the Feat my Pliant Limbs design'd: What Nature has in Bulk to me denied, In Sinews, and in vigor is supplied: And should my Strength be wanting to Desire, Pleasure would add new Fewel to the Fire: Oft in soft Battles have I spent the Night, Yet rose next Morning vig'rous for the Fight, Fresh as the Day, and active as the Light: No Maid, that ever under me took pay, From my Embrace went unoblig'd away. Bless'd he, who in Loves service yields his Breath, Grant me, ye Gods, so sweet, so wish'd a Death! In bloody Fields let Souldiers meet their Fate, To purchase dear-bought Honor at the rate:

Let greedy Merchants trust the faithless Main, And shipwrack Life and Soul for sordid gain: Dying, let me expire in gasps of Lust, And in a gush of Joy give up the ghost: And some kind pitying Friend shall say of me, So did he live, and so deserv'd to die.