WHICH A DYING LOVER DIRECTED HIS FRIENDS TO FILL WITH HIS
ASHES PULVERIZED .

M ARK the pure crystal that contains
All that of Strephon's love remains;
Dust — in whose emblem is express'd
That Love must never hope to rest.

The hand of Death his parting soul disarms:
He dies, in Virtue's love — in Beauty's arms:
Descending Angels consecrate the tear,
And they accept him — from an Angel here .

Hither your Wreaths, ye drooping Muses, bring
The short-lived Rose, that blooms but to decay;
Love's fragrant Myrtles, that in Paphos spring,
And deathless Poetry's immortal Bay.

And Oh thou gentlest Shade accept the Verse,
Mean tho' it be, and artlessly sincere,
That pensive thus attends thy silent Hearse,
And steals, in secret Shades, the pious Tear.

What Heart, by Heav'n with gen'rous Softness blest,
But in thy Lines its native Language reads?
Where hapless Love, in Classic Plainness drest,

I.

Lord, all these works of thine
Become thy hand divine,
And pious thoughts inspire:
While all thy greatness prove,
Thee I admire and love,
Love and admire.

II.

The world's a temple, where
Thy creatures all appear
To offer praise and prayer:
The rocks, and hills and trees,
On earth, in air, in seas,
Thy altars are.

III.

Marked you her eye of heavenly blue?
Marked you her cheek of roseate hue?
That eye in liquid circles moving,
That cheek abashed at man's approving:
The one , love's arrows darting round;
The other , blushing at the wound!

In vain I touch the warbling lute,
To chear my love-sick mind;
Or plumb-tree pipe, or boxen flute,
Unless my DELIAS kind; —

Unless the Nymph, who reigns confest,
Queen of the joys I share;
Vouchfafes to drive from out my breast,
The pain that rankles there.

For ah! in love, the fev'rish soul
Flies madd'ning thro' the brain;
And arts that should the sense controul,

To covet an appropriate bliss,
The Decalogue has made a sin;
But envy at a common kiss
Makes a poor guilt, not worth a pin.
Mine 's an offence that Kings might share,
It reaches Envy's proudest height;
A Sun-beam the inspiring Fair,
And Love my envy'd Brother's right.

Polly , when your lips you join,
Lovely ruby lips to mine;
To the bee the flow'ry field
Such a banquet does not yield;
Not the dewy morning rose
So much sweetness does enclose;
Not the gods such nectar sip,
As Colin from thy balmy lip:
Kiss me then, with rapture kiss,
We'll surpass the gods in bliss.

Come , my fairest, learn of me,
Learn to give and take the bliss;
Come, my love, here's none but we,
I'll instruct thee how to kiss.
Why turn from me that dear face?
Why that blush and downcast eye?
Come, come, meet my fond embrace,
And the mutual rapture try.

Throw thy lovely twining arms
Round my neck, or round my waist;
And whilst I devour thy charms,
Let me closely be embrac'd:
Then when soft ideas rise,
And the gay desires grow strong;
Let them sparkle in thy eyes,
Let them murmur from thy tongue.

Y E Guardian Angels, who discover
How dearly all her Children love her,
Oh, listen to the Filial Prayer,
And shield her, with a Mother's care!
To charm, as long as breath endures,
The power is hers — the gift is yours;
Grant — for it 's all that we implore —
Her life — till she is lov'd no more!