To J.G. On The News Of His Marriage. Poem by Ephelia

My Love? alas! I must not call you Mine,
But to your envied Bride that Name resign:
I must forget your lovely melting Charms,
And be forever Banished from your Arms:
Forever? oh! the Horror of that Sound!
It gives my bleeding Heart a deadly wound:
While I might hope, although my Hope was vain,
It gave some Ease to my unpitied Pain,
But now your
Hymen
doth all Hope exclude,
And but to think is Sin; yet you intrude
On every Thought; if I but close my Eyes,
Methinks your pleasing Form beside me lies;
With every Sigh I gently breathe your Name,
Yet no ill Thoughts pollute my hallowed Flame;
'Tis pure and harmless, as a Lambent(1) Fire,
And never mingled with a warm Desire:
All I have now to ask of Bounteous Heaven,
Is, that your Perjuries may be forgiven:
That She who you have with your Nuptials blessed,
As She's the Happiest Wife, may prove the Best:
That all our Joys may light on you alone,
Then I can be contented to have none:
And never wish that you should Kinder be,
Than now and then, to cast a Thought on Me:
And, Madam, though the Conquest you have won,
Over my
Strephon
, has my hopes undone;
I'll daily beg of Heaven, he may be
Kinder to You, than he has been to Me.