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Earl of Rochester

Aelbert Cuyp. Piping Shepherds, 1643-44.


A Pastoral D I A L O G U E

BETWEEN


ALEXIS and STREPHON.

Written at the Bath, in the Year 1674.

ALEXIS.
THERE sighs not on the Plain
     So lost a Swain as I;
Scorch'd up with Love, froz'n with Disdain,
Of killing Sweetness I complain.

STREPHON.
     If 'tis Corrinna, die.
Since first my dazzled Eyes were thrown
     On that bewitching Face,
Like ruin'd Birds robb'd of their Young,
Lamenting, frighted, and undone,
     I fly from Place to Place.
Fram'd by some cruel Pow'rs above,
     So Nice she is, and Fair;
None from Undoing can remove,
Since all, who are not blind, must Love;
     Who are not vain, Despair.

ALEXIS.
The Gods no sooner give a Grace,
     But, fond of their own Art,
Severely Jealous, ever place,
To guard the Glories of a Face,
     A Dragon in the Heart.
Proud and Ill-natured Pow'rs they are,
     Who, peevish to Mankind,
For their own Honour's sake, with care
Make a sweet Form divinely fair,
     Then add a cruel Mind.

ALEXIS.
Since she's insensible of Love,
     By Honour taught to hate;
If we, forc'd by Decrees above,
Must sensible to Beauty prove,
     How tyrannous is Fate?
I to the Nymph have never nam'd
     The Cause of all my Pain.

STREPHON.
Such Bashfulness may well be blam'd;
For since to Serve we're not asham'd,
     Why should she blush to Reign?

ALEXIS.
But if her haughty Heart despise
     My humble proffer'd one;
The just Compassion she denies,
I may obtain from others' Eyes;
     Hers are not fair alone.
Devouring Flames require new Food;
     My Heart's consumed almost:
New Fires must kindle in her Blood,
Or mine go out, and that's as good.

STREPHON.
Wou'dst live, when Love is lost?
Be dead before thy Passion dies;
     For if thou shou'dst survive,
What Anguish would thy Heart surprize,
To see her Flames begin to rise,
     And thine no more alive?

ALEXIS.
Rather what Pleasure should I meet
     In my Triumphant Scorn,
To see my Tyrant at my Feet;
While taught by her, unmov'd I sit
     A Tyrant in my turn.

STREPHON.
Ungentle Shepherd! cease, for shame;
     Which way can you pretend
To merit so Divine a Flame,
Who to dull Life make a mean Claim,
     When Love is at an End?
As Trees are by their Bark embrac'd,
     Love to my Soul doth cling;
When torn by the Herd's greedy Taste,
The injur'd Plants feel they're defac'd,
     They wither in the Spring.
My rifled Love would soon retire,
     Dissolving into Air,
Shou'd I that Nymph cease to admire,
Bless'd in whose Arms I will expire,
     Or at her Feet despair.




Rochester, John Wilmot, Earl of. The Works of John Earl of Rochester.
London: Jacob Tonson, 1714. 5-8.




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Restoration & 18th-century:

Introduction
Samuel Butler
John Dryden
Samuel Pepys
John Bunyan
Aphra Behn
John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester
Anne Finch, Countess of Winchilsea
Mary Astell
William Congreve
Matthew Prior
Daniel Defoe
John Gay
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
Jonathan Swift
Joseph Addison
Sir Richard Steele
James Thomson
Alexander Pope
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William Collins
Christopher Smart
Oliver Goldsmith
George Crabbe
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