Poems by the most deservedly admired Mrs. Katherine Philips, the matchless Orinda ; to which is added Monsieur Corneille's Pompey & Horace, tragedies ; with several other translations out of French.

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Title
Poems by the most deservedly admired Mrs. Katherine Philips, the matchless Orinda ; to which is added Monsieur Corneille's Pompey & Horace, tragedies ; with several other translations out of French.
Author
Philips, Katherine, 1631-1664.
Publication
London :: Printed by J.M. for H. Herringman ...,
1667.
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"Poems by the most deservedly admired Mrs. Katherine Philips, the matchless Orinda ; to which is added Monsieur Corneille's Pompey & Horace, tragedies ; with several other translations out of French." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A54716.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 15, 2024.

Pages

To Rosania, now Mrs. Mountague, being with her.

1.
AS men that are with Visions grac'd Must have all other thoughts displac'd, And buy those short descents of Light With loss of Sense; or Spirit's flight:
2.
So since thou wert my happiness, I could not hope the rate was less; And thus the Vision which I gain Is short t'enjoy, and hard t'attain.
3.
Ah then! what a poor trifle's all That thing which here we Pleasure call,

Page 37

Since what our very Souls hath cost Is hardly got and quickly lost?
4.
Yet is there Justice in the fate; For should we dwell in blest estate, Our Joys thereby would so inflame, We should forget from whence we came.
5.
If this so sad a doom can quit Me for the follies I commit; Let no estrangement on thy part Adde a new ruine to my heart.
6.
When on my self I do reflect, I can no smile from thee expect: But if thy Kindness hath no plea, Some freedom grant for Charity.
7.
Else the just World must needs deny Our Friendship an Eternity: This Love will ne're that title hold; For mine's too hot, and thine too cold.
8.
Divided Rivers lose their name; And so our too unequal flame Parted, will Passion be in me, And an Indifference in thee.

Page 58

9.
Thy absence I could easier find, Provided thou wert well and kind, Than such a Presence as is this, Made up of snatches of my bliss.
10.
So when the Earth long gasps for rain, If she at last some few drops gain, She is more parched than at first; That small recruit increas'd the thirst.
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