To Myra. The Surrender.
NOW fly, Discretion, to my Aid,
See haughty Myra, fair and bright,
In all the Pomp of Love array'd,
Ah now I tremble at her Sight!
She comes! She comes! Before her all
Mankind does prostrate fall.
Love, a Destroyers fierce and young,
Adventrous, terrible, and strong,
Cruel and rash, delighting still to vex,
Sparing nor Age nor Sex,
Commands in chief: Well fortify'd he lies,
And from her Lips, her Cheeks, her Eyes,
All Opposition he defies.
Reason, Love's old inveterate Foe,
Scarce ever reconcil'd 'til now,
Reason assists her too.
A wise Commander he, for Council fit,
But nice and coy, nor has been seen to sit
In modern Synods, nor appear'd of late
In Courts, or Camps, or in Affairs of State;
Reason proclaims 'em all his Foes,
Who such resistless Charms oppose.
My very Bosom Er ends make War
Within my Breast, and in her Int'rests are;
Esteem and judgment with strong Fancy join,
To call the fair Invader in;
My darling Favourite, Inclination too,
All, all conspiring with the Foe!
Ah! whither shall I fly to hide
My Weakness from the Conqueror's Pride?
Now, now, Discretion be my Guide!
But see, this mighty Archimedes too
Surrenders now;
Presuming longer to resist,
His very Name
Discretion must disclaim,
Folly and Madness only wou'd persist.
