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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=513542" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Repulse to Alcander</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">What is't you mean, that I am thus approach'd,<br> Dare you to hope, that I may be debauch'd?<br> For your seducing Words the same implies,<br> In begging Pity with a soft Surprise,<br> For one who loves, and sighs, and almost dies.<br> In ev'ry Word and Action doth appear,<br> Something I hate and blush to see or hear;<br> At first your Love for vast Respect was told,<br> Till your excess of Manners grew too bold,<br> And did your base, designing Thoughts unfold.<br> When a Salute did seem to Custom due,<br> With too much Ardour you'd my Lips pursue;<br> My Hand, with which you play'd, you'd Kiss and Press,<br> Nay, ev'ry Look had something of Address.<br> Ye Gods! I cry'd, sure he designs to woo,<br> For thus did amorous Phylaster do.<br> The Youth whose Passion none could disapprove,<br> When Hymen waited to complete his Love;<br> But now, when sacred Laws and Vows confine<br> Me to another, what can you design?<br> At first, I could not see the lewd Abuse,<br> But fram'd a thousand Things for your Excuse.<br> I knew that Bacchus sometimes did inspire<br> A sudden Transport, tho' not lasting Fire;<br> For he no less than Cupid can make kind,<br> And force a Fondness which was ne'er design'd;<br> Or thought you'd travel'd far, and it might chance,<br> To be the foreign Mode of Complaisance.<br> Till you so oft your amorous Crimes repeat,<br> That to permit you would make mine as great;<br> Nor stopt you here but languishingly spake,<br> That Love which I endeavour'd to mistake:<br> What saw you in me, that could make you vain,<br> Or any thing expect, but just Disdain?<br> I must confess I am not quite so Nice,<br> To Damn all little Gallantries for Vice<br> (But I see now my Charity's misplac'd,<br> If none but sullen Saints can be thought Chaste):<br> Yet know, Base Man, I scorn your lewd Amours,<br> Hate them from all, not only 'cause they're yours.<br> Oh sacred Love! let not the World profane<br> Thy Transports, thus to Sport, and Entertain;<br> The Beau, with some small Artifice of's own,<br> Can make a Treat, for all the wanton Town:<br> I thought my self secure, within these Shades,<br> But your rude Love, my privacy invades,<br> Affronts my Virtue, hazards my just Fame,<br> Why should I suffer, for your lawless Flame?<br> For oft 'tis known, through Vanity and Pride,<br> Men boast those Favours which they are deny'd;<br> Or other's Malice, which can soon discern;<br> Perhaps may see in you some kind Concern.<br> So scatter false Suggestions of their own,<br> That I love too: Oh! Stain to my Renown;<br> No, I'll be Wise, avoid your Sight in time,<br> And shun at once the Censure and the Crime.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sarah+Fyge">Sarah Fyge</a><div class=q>
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<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=513542" data-title="The Repulse to Alcander de Sarah Fyge" data-description="What is't you mean, that I am thus approach'd,
 Dare you to hope, that I may be debauch'd?
 For your seducing Words the same implies,
 In begging Pity with a soft Surprise,
 For one who loves, and sighs, and almost dies.
 In ev'ry Word and Action ..."></div>
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