The Temple of Death, Art of Poetry, Duel of the Stags, etc (1695)/Virtue's Urania
Virtue's Urania.
By the same Author.
Hopeless I languish out my Days,
Struck with Urania's Conqu'ring Eyes:
The Wretch at whom she darts these rays,
Must feel the Wound until he dies.
Struck with Urania's Conqu'ring Eyes:
The Wretch at whom she darts these rays,
Must feel the Wound until he dies.
Though endless be her Cruelty,
Calling her Beauties to my Mind,
I bow beneath her Tyranny,
And dare not murmur she's unkind.
Calling her Beauties to my Mind,
I bow beneath her Tyranny,
And dare not murmur she's unkind.
Reason this tameness does upbraid,
Proff'ring to arm in my defence;
But when I call her to my aid,
She's more a Traytor than my sense.
Proff'ring to arm in my defence;
But when I call her to my aid,
She's more a Traytor than my sense.
No sooner I the War declare,
But strait her succour she denies,
And joyning Forces with the Fair,
Confirms the Conquest of her Eyes.
But strait her succour she denies,
And joyning Forces with the Fair,
Confirms the Conquest of her Eyes.