The
Power
of
Love
.
In
this
soft
Amrous
Age
now
Love
is
grown
,
The
modish
Entertainment
of
the
Town
,
And
the
fond
Beau
loves
his
half
score
aday
,
The
Ladies
too
almost
as
Vain
as
they
;
Spare
me
,
ye
cruel
Powers
,
let
me
not
prove
,
The
only
Victim
of
a
lasting
Love
.
I
had
my
share
three
tedious
Years
a
Slave
,
And
knew
no
Joys
but
what
Phylaster
gave
;
When
spite
of
Vows
he
prov'd
unjust
at
last
,
In
distant
Shades
contending
Months
I
past
,
Thought
I
could
see
the
Youth
at
my
return
,
With
gay
Indifference
and
Unconcern
.
I
long'd
to
know
the
Temper
of
my
Heart
,
And
see
if
Passion
could
outlive
desert
;
But
this
my
Curiosity
has
won
,
To
know
alass
!
I
am
again
undone
:
I
thought
my
self
with
Resolution
bless'd
,
But
the
soft
Gods
came
crouding
to
my
Breast
.
The
sporting
Boys
delight
in
Amorous
Pain
,
And
flock'd
in
hast
to
Revel
here
again
;
With
downy
Wings
they
Fan
the
couchant
Fire
,
And
every
Spark
revives
with
fresh
desire
:
I
Gaze
and
Sigh
,
and
wish
I'm
just
the
same
,
As
the
first
Transports
of
my
blooming
Flame
.
Almighty
Love
thy
Power
to
me
is
known
,
Without
new
Tortures
I'll
thy
Godhead
own
;
But
if
I'm
doom'd
to
Love
may
my
Fate
be
,
(
Rather
than
him
)
to
love
each
Face
I
see
.
Tis
Sin
against
the
custom
of
the
Nation
,
To
love
but
one
and
all
this
while
with
Passion
,
I'd
rather
be
the
shifting
Fool
in
Fashion
.
Then
if
I'm
tortur'd
with
Variety
,
I
shan't
be
blam'd
for
Nonconformity
.