_Your silent awful Passion more wou’d move,_ _Than all the bold and forward Arts of Love._ _A Heart the softest composition forms,_ _And sooner yields by treaty, then by storms;_ _A Look, a Sigh, a Tear, is understood,_ _And makes more warm disorders in the Blood,_ _Has more ingaging tender Eloquence,_ _Then all the industry of Artful Sense:_ _So falling drops with their soft force alone_ _Insinuate kind impressions in obdurate stone._ But that which most my pity did imploy, Was a young Hero, full of Smiles and Joy. A noble Youth to whom indulgent Heaven, Had more of Glory then of Virtue given; Conducted thither by a Politick throng, The Rabble Shouting as he past along. Whilst he, vain with the beastly Din they make, (Which were the same, if Bears were going to stake) Addresses to this faithless Flatterer; Who in return, calls him, _young God of War!_ The _Cities Champion!_ and his _Countries Hope_, _The Peoples Darling_, and _Religious Prop_. _Scepters_ and _Crowns_ does to his view expose; And all the Fancied pow’r of Empire shows. In vain the Vision he wou’d dis-believe, In spight of Sense she does his Soul deceive: He Credits all! nor ask’s which way or how, The dazling Circle shall surround his Brow; Implicitly attends the flattering Song, Gives her his easy Faith, and is undone. For with one turn of State the Frenzy’s heal’d, The Blind recover and the Cheats reveal’d. Whilst all his _Charms_ of _Youth_ and _Beauty_ lies, The kind reproach of pitying Enemies. To me she said, and smiling as she spoke, Lisander, _you with Love have Reason took,_ _Continue so, and from_ Aminta’s _Heart_ _Expect what Love and Beauty can impart._ I knew she flatter’d, yet I cou’d not choose But please my Self, and credit the Abuse; Her charming Words that Night repos’d me more, Then all the grateful Dreams I’d had before. Next day I rose, and early with the Sun; Love guided me to _Declaration_, A pleasant City built with Artful Care, To which the Lovers of the Isle repair. In our pursuit _Respect_ dissatisfy’d, Did the unreasonable Adventure chide; Return, unheedy Youth, cry’d he, return! Let my advice th’ approaching danger warn: Renounce thy Purpose and thy haste decline, Or thou wilt ruine all Loves great design; Amaz’d I stood, and unresolv’d t’ obey, Cou’d not return, durst not pursue my way; Whilst LOVE, who thought himself concern’d as Guide I’th’ Criminal Adventure, thus reply’d: LOVE’s Resentment.