< Poems upon Several Occasions
In whom so many Charms are plac'd,
To what my Eyes admir'd before,
The Object thus improv'd by Thought,
To Myra. Loving at first Sight.
I.
NO warning, of th' approaching Flame,
Swiftly like sudden Death it came,
Like Travellers by Light'ning kill'd,
I burnt the Moment I beheld.
II.
Is with a Mind as noble grac'd;
The Case, so shining to behold,
Is fill'd with richest Gems and Gold.
III.
I add a thousand Graces more;
And Fancy blows into a Flame
The Spark, that from her Beauty came.
IV.
By my own Image I am caught:
Pygmalion so, with fatal Art,
Polish'd the Form that stung his Heart.
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