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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345222" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Pastoral Dialogue - I</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Amintor. Stay gentle Nymph, nor so solic'tous be,<br>To fly his sight that still would gaze on thee.<br>With other Swaines I see thee oft converse,<br>Content to speak, and hear what they rehearse:<br>But I unhappy, when I e're draw nigh,<br>Thou streight do'st leave both Place, and Company.<br>If this thy Flight, from fear of Harm doth flow,<br>Ah, sure thou little of my Heart dost know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alinda. What wonder, Swain, if the Pursu'd by Flight,<br>Seeks to avoid the close Pursuers Sight? <br>And if no Cause I have to fly from thee,<br>Then thou hast none, why thou dost follow me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Amin. If to the Cause thou wilt propitious prove,<br>Take it at once, fair Nymph, and know 'tis Love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alin. To my just Pray'r, ye favouring Gods attend,<br>These Vows to Heaven with equal Zeal I send,<br>My flocks from Wolves, my Heart from Love, defend.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Amin. The Gods which did on thee such Charms bestow,<br>Ne're meant thou shouldst to Love have prov'd a Foe,<br>That so Divine a Power thou shouldst defy.<br>Could there a Reason be, I'd ask thee, why? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alin. Why does Licoris, once so bright and gay,<br>Pale as a Lilly pine her self away? <br>Why does Elvira, ever sad, frequent<br>The lonely shades? Why does yon Monument<br>Which we upon our Left Hand do behold,<br>Hapless Amintas youthful Limbs enfold? <br>Say Shepherd, say: But if thou wilt not tell,<br>Damon, Philisides, and Strephon well<br>Can speak the Cause, whose Falshood each upbraids,<br>And justly me from Cruel Love disswades.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Amin. Hear me ye Gods. Me and my Flocks forsake,<br>If e're like them my promis'd Faith I brake.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alin. By others sad Experience wise I'le be,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Amin. But such thy Wisdom highly injures me:<br>And nought but Death can give a Remedy.<br>Ye Learn'd in Physick, what does it avail,<br>That you by Art (wherein ye never fail) <br>Present Relief have for the Mad-dogs Bite? <br>The Serpents sting? the poisonous Achonite? <br>While helpless Love upbraids your baffl'd skill,<br>And far more certain, than the rest, doth kill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alin. Fond Swain, go dote upon the new blown Rose,<br>Whose Beauty with the Morning did disclose,<br>And e're Days King forsakes th' enlighted Earth,<br>Wither'd, returns from whence it took its Birth.<br>As much Excuse will there thy Love attend,<br>As what thou dost on Womens Beauty spend.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Amin. <br>Ah Nymph, those Charms which I in thee admire,<br>Can, nor before, nor with thy Life expire.<br>From Heaven they are, and such as ne're can dye,<br>But with thy Soul they will ascend the Sky! <br>For though my ravisht Eye beholds in Thee,<br>Such beauty as I can in none else see; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">That Nature there alone is without blame,<br>Yet did not this my faithful Heart enflame:<br>Nor when in Dance thou mov'st upon the Plaine,<br>Or other Sports pursu'st among the Train<br>Of choicest Nymphs, where thy attractive Grace<br>Shews thee alone, though thousands be in place! <br>Yet not for these do I Alinda love,<br>Hear then what 'tis, that does my Passion move.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That Thou still Earliest at the Temple art,<br>And still the last that does from thence depart; <br>Paus Altar is by thee the oftnest prest,<br>Thine's still the fairest Offering and the Best; <br>And all thy other Actions seem to be,<br>The true Result of Unfeign'd Piety; <br>Strict in thy self, to others Just and Mild; <br>Careful, nor to Deceive, nor be Beguil'd; <br>Wary, without the least Offence, to live,<br>Yet none than thee more ready to forgive! <br>Even on thy Beauty thou dost Fetters lay,<br>Least, unawares, it any should betray.<br>Far unlike, sure, to many of thy Sex,<br>Whose Pride it is, the doting World to vex; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Spreading their Universal Nets to take<br>Who e're their artifice can captive make.<br>But thou command'st thy Sweet, but Modest Eye,<br>That no Inviting Glance from thence should fly.<br>Beholding with a Gen'rous Disdain,<br>The lighter Courtships of each amorous Swain; <br>Knowing, true Fame, Vertue alone can give:<br>Nor dost thou greedily even that receive.<br>And what 'bove this thy Character can raise? <br>Thirsty of Merit, yet neglecting Praise! <br>While daily these Perfections I discry,<br>Matchless Alinda makes me daily dy.<br>Thou absent, Flow'rs to me no Odours yield,<br>Nor find I freshness in the dewy Field; <br>Not Thyrsis Voice, nor Melibeus Lire,<br>Can my Sad Heart with one Gay Thought inspire; <br>My thriving Flock ('mong Shepherds Vows the Chief) <br>I unconcern'd behold, as they my Grief.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This I profess, if this thou not believe,<br>A further proof I ready am to give,<br>Command: there's nothing I'le not undertake,<br>And, thy Injunctions, Love will easie make.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, if thou couldst incline a gentle Ear,<br>Of plighted Faith, and hated Hymen hear; <br>Thou hourly then my spotless Love should'st see,<br>That all my Study, how to please, should be; <br>How to protect thee from disturbing Care,<br>And in thy Griefs to bear the greatest share; <br>Nor should a Joy, my Warie Heart surprize,<br>That first I read not in thy charming Eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alin. If ever I to any do impart,<br>My, till this present hour, well-guarded Heart,<br>That Passion I have fear'd, I'le surely prove,<br>For one that does, like to Amintor love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Amintor. Ye Gods—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alin. Shepherd, no more: enough it is that I,<br>Thus long to Love, have listn'd patiently.<br>Farewel Pan keep thee, Swain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Amintor. And Blessings Thee,<br>Rare as thy Vertues, still accompany.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Killigrew">Anne Killigrew</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345222" data-title="A Pastoral Dialogue - I de Anne Killigrew" data-description="Amintor. Stay gentle Nymph, nor so solic'tous be, To fly his sight that still would gaze on thee. With other Swaines I see thee oft converse, Content to speak, and hear what they rehearse: But I unhappy, when I e're draw nigh, Thou streight do'st ..."></div> </div> </div>
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