A Pastoral Dialogue - Poem by Anne Killigrew
Dorinda. Sabæan Perfumes fragrant Roses bring,
With all the Flowers that Paint the gaudy Spring:
Scatter them all in young Alexis's way,
With all that's sweet and (like himself) that's Gay.
Alexis. Immortal Laurels and as lasting Praise,
Crown the Divine Dorinda's matchless Laies:
May all Hearts stoop, where mine would gladly yield,
Had not Lycoris prepossest the Field.
Dor. Would my Alexis meet my noble Flame,
In all Ausonia neither Youth nor Dame,
Should so renown'd in Deathless Numbers shine,
As thy exalted Name should do in mine.
Alex. He'll need no Trophie nor ambitious Hearse,
Who shall be honour'd by Dorinda's Verse;
But where it is inscrib'd, That here doth lie
Lycoris's Love. That Fame can never die.
Dor. On Tyber's Bank I Thyrsis did espie,
And by his side did bright Lycoris lie;
She Crown'd his Head, and Kist his amorous Brow,
Ah Poor Alexis! Ah then where wer't thou?
Alex. When thou saw'st that, I ne'r had seen my Fair,
And what pass'd then ought not to be my Care;
I liv'd not then, but first began to be,
When I Lycoris Lov'd, and she Lov'd me.
Dor. Ah choose a Faith, a Faith that's like thine own,
A Virgin Love, a Love that's newly blown:
'Tis not enough a Maidens Heart is chast,
It must be Single, and not once mis-plac't.
Alex. Thus do our Priests of Heavenly Pastures tell,
Eternal Groves, all Earthly, that excel:
And think to wean us from our Loves below,
By dazling Objects which we cannot know.
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