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Oh tyrant Love! hast thou possest
Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim,
Love, soft iutruder, enters here,
Which Nature has imprest?
The mild and gen'rous breast?
Love's purer flame the Gods approve;
Brutus for absent Portia siglis,
What is loose love? a transient gast,
But Hymen's kinder flames unite:
And burn for ever one;
Productive as the sun.
Oh source of ev'ry social tye,
What various joys on one attend,
Whether his hoary sire he spies,
What home felt raptures move ?
With rev'rence, hope, and love.
Hence guilty joys, distastes, surmizes,
Hence false tears, deceits, disguises, Dangers, doubts, delays, surprizes ;
Fires that scorch, yet dare not shine : Purest love's unwaşting treasure, Constant faith, fair hope, long leisure Days of ease, and nights of pleasure ;
Sacred Hymen! these are thine.
When on thy bosom I recline,
To call thee mine for life;
Of Husband and of Wife.
One mutual flame inspires our bliss :-
Ev'n years have not destroy'd ;
That love can ne'er be cloy'd,
Have I a wish? 'tis all for thee;
So soft our moments move,
And bid us live and love.
If cares arise (and cares will come),
I lall me there to rest; And is there ought disturbs my Fair? I bid her sigh out all her care,
And lose it in my breast.
Round Love's elysian bowers,
The softest prospects rise,
There shine the purest skies;
Round Love's deserted bowers,
Tremendous rocks arise,
Tornadoes rend the skies;
Then youth, thou fond believer !
The wily syren shun,
Will surely be undone !
Far from the throbbing bosom haste,
But, ah! return ye smiling hours,
So shall the moments gaily glide