_Love, of all Joys, the sweetest is,_ _The most substantial Happiness;_ _The softest Blessing Life can crave,_ _The noblest Passion Souls can have._ _Yet, if no Interruption were,_ _No Difficulties came between,_ _’.wou’d not be render’d half so dear:_ _The Sky is gayest when small Clouds are seen._ _The sweetest Flower, the blushing Rose,_ _Amidst the Thorns securest grows._ _If Love were one continu’d Joy,_ _How soon the Happiness would cloy!_ _The wiser God did this foresee;_ _And to preserve the Bliss entire,_ _Mix’d it with Doubt and Jealousy,_ _Those necessary Fuels to the Fire;_ _Sustain’d the fleeting Pleasures with new Fears;_ _With little Quarrels, Sighs and Tears;_ _With Absence, that tormenting Smart,_ _That makes a Minute seem a Day,_ _A Day a Year to the impatient Heart,_ _That languishes in the Delay,_ _But cannot sigh the tender Pain away;_ _That still returns, and with a greater Force,_ _Thro’ ev’ry Vein it takes its grateful Course._ _But whatsoe’er the Lover does sustain,_ _Tho’ he still sigh, complain, and fear;_ _It cannot be a mortal Pain,_ _When Two do the Affliction bear._ TEN o’.LOCK. _Reflections._ After the afflicting Thoughts of my Absence, make some Reflections on your Happiness. Think it a Blessing to be permitted to love me; think it so, because I permit it to you alone, and never could be drawn to allow it any other. The first thing you ought to consider, is, that at length I have suffer’d my self to be overcome, to quit that Nicety that is natural to me, and receive your Addresses; nay, thought ‘em agreeable: and that I have at last confess’d, the Present of your Heart is very dear to me. ‘Tis true, I did not accept of it the first time it was offer’d me, nor before you had told me a thousand times, that you could not escape expiring, if I did not give you leave to sigh for me, and gaze upon me; and that there was an absolute necessity for me, either to give you leave to love, or die. And all those Rigours my Severity has made you suffer, ought now to be recounted to your Memory, as Subjects of Pleasure; and you ought to esteem and judge of the Price of my Affections, by the Difficulties you found in being able to touch my Heart: Not but you have Charms that can conquer at first sight; and you ought not to have valu’d me less, if I had been more easily gain’d: But ‘tis enough to please you, to think and know I am gain’d; no matter when and how. When, after a thousand Cares and Inquietudes, that which we wish for succeeds to our Desires, the remembrance of those Pains and Pleasures we encounter’d in arriving at it, gives us a new Joy.