_The Houses there, retir’d in Gardens are,_ _And all is done with little noise,_ _One seldom sees Assemblies there,_ _Or publick shows for Grief or Joys._ _One rarely walks but in the Night,_ _And most endeavour to avoid the Light._ _There the whole World their bus’ness carry,_ _Without or confident, or Secretary:_ _One still is under great constraint,_ _Must always suffer, but ne’r make complaint,_ _’.is there the dumb and silent languishes,_ _Are predic’d, which so well explain the Heart:_ _Which without speaking can so much express,_ _And secrets to the Soul the nearest way impart;_ _Language which prettify perswades belief;_ _Who’s silent Eloquence obliges Joy or Grief._ This City’s called _Discretion_, being the name Of her that is Lieutenant of the same, And Sister to _Respect_; a Lady who Seldom obtains a Conquest at first view; But in repeated Visits one shall find, Sufficient Charms of Beauty and of Mind: Her vigorous piercing Eyes can when they please, Make themselves lov’d, and understood with Ease. Not too severe, but yet reserv’d and wise, And her Address is full of subtilties; Which upon all occasions serves her turn; T’ express her Kindness, and to hide her scorn; Dissimulations Arts, she useful holds, And in good manners sets ‘en down for rules. ‘Twas here _Aminta_ liv’d, and here I paid My constant visits to the lovely Maid. With mighty force upon my Soul I strove, To hide the Sent’ments of my raging Love. All that I spoke did but indifferent seem, Or went no higher than a great esteem. But ‘twas not long my Passion I conceal’d, My flame in spight of me, it self reveal’d. The silent Confession. _And tho’ I do not speak, alas,_ _My Eyes, and Sighs too much do say!_ _And pale and languishing my Face,_ _The torments of my Soul betray;_ _They the sad story do unfold,_ Love _cannot his own secrets hold;_ _And though Fear ty’s my Tongue, Respect my Eyes,_ _Yet something will disclose the pain;_ _Which breaking out throw’s all disguise;_ _Reproaches her with Cruelties;_ _Which she augments by new disdain;_ _--Where e’re she be, I still am there;_ _What-ere she do, I that prefer;_ _In spight of all my strength, at her approach,_ _I tremble with a sight or touch;_ _Paleness or Blushes does my Face surprize,_ _If mine by chance meet her encountering Eyes;_ _’.was thus she learn’d my Weakness, and her Pow’r;_ _And knew too well she was my Conqueror._