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Dryden, John, 1631-1700

"The works of John Dryden, $c now first collected in eighteen volumes. $p Volume 02"


_Phil_. He, who with your possession once is blest,
On easy terms will part with all the rest.
All my ambition will in you be crowned;
And those white arms shall all my wishes bound.
Our life shall be but one long nuptial day,
And, like chafed odours, melt in sweets away;
Soft as the night our minutes shall be worn,
And chearful as the birds, that wake the morn.
_Cand_. Thus hope misleads itself in pleasant way,
And takes more joys on trust, than love can pay:
But, love with long possession once decayed,
That face, which now you court, you will upbraid.
_Phil_. False lovers broach these tenets, to remove
The fault from them, by placing it on love.
_Cand_. Yet grant, in youth you keep alive your fire,
Old age will come, and then it must expire:
Youth but a while does at love's temple stay,
As some fair inn, to lodge it on the way.
_Phil_. Your doubts are kind; but, to be satisfied
I can be true, I beg I may be tried.
_Cand_. Trials of love too dear the making cost;
For if successless, the whole venture's lost.
What you propose, brings wants and care along.
_Phil_. Love can bear both.
_Cand_. But is your love so strong?
_Phil_. They do not want, who wish not to have more;
Who ever said an anchoret was poor?
_Cand_.


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