_But give me leave, whose Soul’s inspir’d,_ _With sacred, but desparing Love._ _To dye from all your noise retir’d,_ _And Buried lie within this silent Grove._ _For whilst I Live, my Soul’s a prey,_ _To insignificant desires,_ _Whilst thou fond God of Love and Play,_ _With all thy Darts, with all thy useless Fires,_ _With all thy wanton flatteries cannot charm,_ _Nor yet the frozen-hearted Virgin warm._ V. _Others by absence Cure their fire,_ _Me it inrages more with pain;_ _Each thought of my_ Aminta _blows it higher,_ _And distance strengthens my desire;_ _I Faint with wishing, since I wish in vain;_ _Either be gone, fond_ Love, _or let me dye,_ _Hopeless desire admits no other remedy._ Here ‘twas the height of _Cruelty_ I prov’d, By absence from the sacred Maid I lov’d: And here had dy’d, but that Love found a way, Some letters from _Aminta_ to convey, Which all the tender marks of pity gave, And hope enough to make me wish to Live. From _Duty_, now the lovely Maid is freed, And calls me from my lonely solitude: Whose cruel Memory in a Moments space, The thoughts of coming Pleasures quite deface; With an impatent Lovers hast I flew, To the vast Blessing Love had set in view, But oh I found _Aminta_ in a place, Where never any Lover happy was! RIVALS. Rivals _’.is call’d, a Village where,_ _The Inhabitants in Fury still appear;_ _Malicious paleness, or a generous red,_ _O’r every angry face is spread,_ _Their Eyes are either smiling with disdain,_ _Or fiercely glow with raging Fire._ _Gloomy and sullen with dissembl’d pain,_ Love _in the Heart, Revenge in the desire:_ _Combates, Duels, Challenges,_ _Is the discourse, and all the business there._ _Respect of Blood, nor sacred friendship tyes;_ _Can reconcile the Civil War,_ _Rage, Horror, Death, and wild despair,_ _Are still Rencounter’d, and still practised there._