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Tixall Poetry.
117
The vowes that I made she seal'd with a kisse,
Till my soule I had lost in a rapture of blisse.

I vow'd, and I thought I could ever have lov'd,
Where beauty and kindnesse together I found;
Soe sweetly she lookt, and soe gracefully mov'd,
That I fancyed my strength with my ioyes to abound:
For the pleasure I gave she did dubly requite,
By finding out ever new waies to delight.

Att last, when enioyment had put out my fire,
My strength was decay'd, and my passion was done;
Soe pall'd was my fancy, soe tame my desire,
That I from my nimph very faine would have gone:
Ah I Jenny, said I, we adore thee in vaine,
For beauty enioy'd doth but turne to disdaine.