That gloomy Out-fide, like a rusty Cheft, Contains the fhining Treasure of a Soul Refolv'd and brave.

Dryd. Don Seb.

;

He looks fecure of Death: Superiour Greatness
Like Jove, when he made Fate, and faid, Thou art
The Slave of my Creation.

He looks as Man was made, with Face erect,
That fcorns his brittle Corps, and feems afham'd
He's not all Spirit: His Eyes with a dumb Pride,
Accufing Fortune that he fell not warm,

Yet now difdains to live.

By his warlike Port,

His fierce Demeanour, and erected Look,
He's of no vulgar Note.

Methinks you breathe

Another Soul; your Looks are more divine;
You speak a Hero, and you move a God.

Dryd. Don Seb.

Dryd. All for Love.

Dryd. All for Love.

Care fate on his faded Cheek; but under Brows
Of dauntless Courage, and confid'rate Pride,
Waiting Revenge. Cruel his Eye, but caft
Signs of Remorse and Paffion.

His grave Rebuke,

Severe in youthful Beauty, added Grace
Invincible.

LOVE. See Abfence, Enjoyment.

Love, the moft gen'rous Paffion of the Mind:
The fofteft Refuge Innocence can find.
The fafe Director of unguided Youth,

Fraught with kind Wishes, and fecur'd by Truth:
The Cordial-drop Heav'n in our Cup has thrown,
To make the naufeous Draught of Life go down:
On which one only Bleffing God might raife,
In Lands of Atheists, Subfidies of Praise :
For none did e'er fo dull and ftupid prove,
But felt a God, and blefs'd his Pow'r in Love.

Milt.

Milt.

Roch.

(Love Trium. Dryd.

Dryd. Don Seb.

Love rais'd his noble Thoughts to brave Achievements:
For Love's the Steel that strikes upon the Flint;
Gives Coldnefs Heat, exerts the hidden Flame,
And spreads the Sparkles round to warm the World.
Love that does all that's Noble here below.
For Love's not always of a vicious Kind,
But oft to virtuous A&ts inflames the Mind:
Awakes the fleepy Vigour of the Soul;
And, brushing o'er, adds Motion to the Pool:
Love, ftudious how to pleafe, improves ou: Parts
With pollifh'd Manners, and adorns with Arts.
Love firft invented Verfe, and form'd the Rhyme,
The Motion meafur'd, harmoniz'd the Chime;

Tq

To lib'ral Arts enlarg'd the narrow-foul'd,

Soften'd the Fierce, and made the Coward 'bold. Dryd.Cym.&Iph.
Ye niggard Gods! ye make our Lives too long:
Ye fill 'em with Difeafes, Wants, and Woes,
And only dafh 'em with a little Love ;

Sprinkled by Fits, and with a fparing Hand:

Dryd. Amphit.

Life without Love is Load, and Time ftands ftill:

What we refufe to him, to Death we give,

And then, then only, when we love, we live.Cong.Mourn.Bride. Love's an heroick Paffion, which can find

No Room in any base degen'rate Mind:

It kindles all the Soul with Honour's Fire,

To make the Lover worthy his Defire. Dryd. Cong. of Gran. p. 2.
Love is not Sin, but where 'tis finful Love :
Mine is a Flame fo holy and fo clear,

That the white Taper leaves no Soot behind,
No Smoke of Luft.

Dryd. Don Seb.
What art thou, Love, thou great myfterious Thing?
From what hid Stock does thy ftrange Nature fpring?
'Tis thou that mov'ft the World thro' ev'ry Part ;
And hold'st the vaft Frame faft that nothing ftart
From the due Place and Office first ordain'd:
By Thee were all things made, and are fuftain'd.

The Pow'r of Love,

In Earth, and Seas, and Air, and Heav'n above,
Rules unrefifted with an awful Nod:

By daily Miracles declar'd a God;

He blinds the Wife, gives Eye-fight to the Blind:

Cowl.

And moulds, and ftamps anew the Lover's Mind.Dryd.Pal.&Art.
No Law is made for Love:

Law is to things which to free Choice relate;
Love is not in our Choice, but in our Fate:
Laws are but pofitive; Love's Pow'r we fee
Is Nature's San&tion, and her first Decree.
Each Day we break the Bond of human Laws
For Love, and vindicate the common Cause.
Laws for Defence of civil Rights are plac'd;

Love throws the Fences down, and makes a gen'ral Wafte.
Maids, Widows, Wives, without Diftinction fall: (Pal. & Arc.
The fweeping Deluge, Love, comes on, and covers all. Dryd.
In Hell, and Earth, and Seas, and Heav'n above,
Love conquers all; and we must yield to Love:
For Love the Senfe of Right and Wrong confounds:
Strong Love and proud Ambition have no Bounds.
The Faults of Love by Love are justified:
With unrefifted Might the Monarch reigns,

Dryd. Virg.

Dryd.

He raises Mountains, and he levels Plains: Dryd. Sig. & Guifc.

Kings fight for Kingdoms, Madmen for Applaufe, (Pal. & Arc
But Love for Love alone, that crowns the Lover's Caufe. Dryd.
Love gives Efteem, and then he gives Defert :
He either finds Equality or makes it ;

Like Death, he knows no Difference in Degrees,
But plains and levels all.

Dryd. Mar. A-la-mods.

By Heav'n, I'll tell her boldly that 'tis fhe:
Why fhould fhe afham'd; or angry be,

To be belov'd by me?

The Gods may give their Altars o'er,
They'll smoke but feldom any more,
If none but happy Men muft them adore.
The Lightning which tall Oaks oppofe in vain,
To ftrike fometimes does not difdain
The humble Furzes of the Plain.
She being fo high, and I fo low,
Her Pow'r by this does greater fhew,

Who at fuch Distance gives fo fure a Blow.
If there be Man who thinks himself fo high
As to pretend Equality,

Hé deferves her less than I ;

For he would cheat for his Relief,
And one would give with leffer Grief

T'an undeferving Beggar than a Thief.

I knew 'twas Madnefs to declare this Truth,
And yet 'twere Bafenefs to deny my Love.
'Tis true, my Hopes are vanishing as Clouds,
Lighter than Children's Bubbles blown by Winds:
My Merit's but the rafh Refult of Chance,
My Birth unequal: All the Stars against me;
Pow'r, Promife, Choice, the Living and the Dead ;
Mankind my Foes, and only Love to friend me:
But fuch a Love, kept at fuch awful Distance,
As what it loudly dares to tell, a Rival
Shall fear to whifper there. Queens may be lov'd,
And fo may Gods, elfe why are Altars rais'd?
Why fhines the Sun but that he may be view'd ?
But oh! when he's too bright, if then we gaze,
"Tis but to weep, and clofe our Eyes in Darknefs.
Love various Minds does variously inspire,
He stirs in gentle Natures gentle Fires,
Like that of Incenfe on the Altars laid;
But raging Flames tempeftuous Souls invade;

A Fire which ev'ry windy Paffion blows,

With Pride it mounts, and with Revenge it glows. Dr. Tyr. Love, So like the Chances are of Love and War,

That they alone in this diftinguish'd are;

T

In Love the Victors from the Vanquish'd fly
They fly that wound, and they pursue that die.
The Fate of Love is fuch,

That ftill it fees too little or too much./

Wall.

Dryd. Ind. Emp.

The Proverb holds, That to be wife, and love,
Is hardly granted to the Gods above.

A gen'ral Doom on all Mankind is pafs'd,
And all are Fools and Lovers firft or laft:
This both by others and my felf Iknow,
For I have ferv'd their Sov'raign long ago;
Oft have been caught within the winding Train
Of female Snares, and felt the Lover's Pain ; (Pal. & Arc.
And learn'd how far the God can human Hearts conftrain. Dryd..
Love is the pleafant Frenzy of the Mind;
And frantick Men in their mad Actions show
A Happiness that none but Madmen know.

Love is that Madness which all Lovers have;
But yet 'tis fweet and pleafing fo to rave:
'Tis an Enchantment where the Reafon's bound,
But Paradife is in th'enchanted Ground;
A Palace void of Envy, Cares and Strife,
Where gentle Hours delude fo much of Life.
To take thofe Charms away, and set me free,
Is but to fend me into Mifery;

And Prudence, of whofe Cure you fo much boast,
Reftores the Pains which that fweet Folly loft.

I have no Reafon left that can affift me,

Dryd.

(Gran.

Dryd. Cong. of

And none would have! My Love's a noble Madness,
Which fhews the Caufe deferves it. Mod'rate Sorrow
Fits vulgar Love, and for a vulgar Man ;

But I have lov'd with fuch tranfcendent Paffion,
I foar'd at firft quite out of Reafon's View,
And now am loft above it.

Dryd. All for Levs.

In Love what ufe of Prudence can there be ?
More perfect I, and yet more pow'rful She!
One Look of hers my Refolution breaks;
Reafon it felf turns Folly when the fpeaks;
And aw'd by her whom it was made to fway,

Flatters her Pow'r and does its own betray. Dryd. State of Inn.
Does the mute Sacrifice upbraid the Priest?

He knows him not the Executioner.

Oh! fhe has deck'd his Ruin with her Love;
Led him in golden Bands to gaudy Slaughter,
And made Perdition pleafing.

Wirness

ye Pow'rs!

How much I fuffer'd and how much I ftrove.
But mighty Love who Prudence does defpife,

Dryd. All for Love.

For

For Reafon fhew'd me Indamora's Eyes:
What would you more, my Crime I sadly view,
Acknowledge, am afham'd, and yet purfue.
For Love does human Policy defpife,
And laughs at all the Counfels of the Wife.

Dryd. Auren,

Dav, Circe

For Lovers Hearts are not their own Hearts,
Nor Lights, nor Lungs, and fo forth, downwards. Hud,
FALLING in LOVE.

I came, I saw, and was undone !
Lightning did thro' my Bones and Marrow runs
A pointed Pain pierc'd deep my Heart,
Afwift cold Trembling feiz'd on ev'ry Part;

My Head turn'd round, nor could it bear
The Poyfon that was enter'd there.

A Change fo fwift what Heart did ever feel!
It rush'd upon me like a mighty Stream,
And bore me in a Moment far from Shore!
I've lov'd away my felf in one short Hour;
Already I am gone an Age of Paffion.
Was it his Youth, his Valour, or Succefs?
Thefe might perhaps be found in other Men:
'Twas that Refpe&t, that awful Homage paid me
That fearful Love which trembled in his Eyes,
And with a filent Earthquake fhook his Soul:
But when he spoke, what tender Words he faid?
So foftly, that, like Flakes of feather'd Snow,
They melted as they fell.

Thus anxious Fears already fiez'd the Queen ;
She fed within her Veins a Flame unfeen:
The Heroe's Valour, A&ts, and Birth infpire
Her Soul with Love, and fan the fecret Fire..
His Words, his Looks, imprinted in her Heart,
Improve the Paffion, and encrease the Smart.
I am not what I was fince Yesterday;
My Food forfakes me, and my needful Reft:
I pine, I languish, love to be alone,

Think much, fpeak little, and in fpeaking figli:
When I fee Torrifmond I am unquiet,

And when I fee him not I am in Pain.
They brought a Paper to me to be fign'd,
Thinking on him, I quite forgot my Name,
And writ for Lenora, Torrifmond.

Dryd, Span. Fry,

I went to Bed and to my felf I thought
That I would think on Torrifmond no more;
Then shut my Eyes, but could not fhut out him.
I turn'd, and try'd each Corner of my Bed
To find if Sleep was there, but Sleep was loft.
T 2

Feav'rio