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On His ALMAHIDE.
WIth what compos'd Serenity of Mind,
(And free from Noise) should I my self retire
Into some lonely Place, where none can find
Me out, Angelick Beauty to Admire;
There please my self, with what my Eyes have seen;
Virtue and Beauty, like a Murm'ring Stream,
Has lull'd my Soul asleep in Love's soft Arms,
And lockt it up from Perturbations free;
For I could not resist Love's Magick Charms,
So I Love Thee!
When on your Heav'nly Beauty first I gaz'd,
My Senses were insensibly betray'd;
The more I lookt, the more I was amaz'd,
Then to behold with my frail Eyes a Maid,
A Petty-goddess of Diana's Train;
I mus'd a while, and then I lookt again;
Thinking a Mist my Eyes had over-cast,
And that it was Minerva I did see;
But when it vanish'd like unto 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Blast,
I saw 'twas Thee!
I saw 'twas who? 'twas she, whose pleasant Look,
Sometimes is like unto a Sea of Milk,
(To lull asleep) and oft a Curled Brook;
Her Eyes like Stars, her Lips more soft than Silk;
Her Cheeks as Roses in a Lovely hue;
Her Neck a stately Pyramid of Snow;
Her Alabaster Brests with Coral Tips,
Her tap'ring Wast descending down hard by
The place of Bliss! —where both her twinny Hips
Holds Symetry!