The men, who flatter highest, please us best. That I suspect it, ought not to displease; For miracles are not believed with ease. One joy I have, that I had Venus' voice; A greater yet, that you confirmed her choice; That proffered laurels, promised sovereignty, Juno and Pallas, you contemned for me. Am I your empire, then, and your renown? What heart of rock, but must by this be won? And yet bear witness, O you Powers above, How rude I am in all the arts of love! My hand is yet untaught to write to men; This is the essay of my unpractised pen. Happy those nymphs, whom use has perfect made! I think all crime, and tremble at a shade. E'en while I write, my fearful conscious eyes Look often back, misdoubting a surprise. For now the rumour spreads among the crowd, At court in whispers, but in town aloud. Dissemble you, whate'er you hear them say; } To leave off loving were your better way; } Yet if you will dissemble it, you may. } Love secretly; the absence of my lord More freedom gives, but does not all afford; Long is his journey, long will be his stay, Called by affairs of consequence away. To go, or not, when unresolved he stood, I bid him make what swift return he could; Then kissing me, he said, I recommend All to thy care, but most my Trojan friend. I smiled at what he innocently said, And only answered, "You shall be obeyed." Propitious winds have borne him far from hence, But let not this secure your confidence. Absent he is, yet absent he commands; You know the proverb, "Princes have long hands." My fame's my burden; for the more I'm praised, A juster ground of jealousy is raised. Were I less fair, I might have been more blest; Great beauty through great danger is possest. To leave me here his venture was not hard, Because he thought my virtue was my guard. He feared my face, but trusted to my life; The beauty doubted, but believed the wife. You bid me use the occasion while I can, Put in our hands by the good easy man. I would, and yet I doubt, 'twixt love and fear; One draws me from you, and one brings me near. Our flames are mutual, and my husband's gone; The nights are long; I fear to lie alone. One house contains us, and weak walls divide, And you're too pressing to be long denied. Let me not live, but every thing conspires To join our loves, and yet my fear retires. You court with words, when you should force employ; A rape is requisite to shame-faced joy. Indulgent to the wrongs which we receive, Our sex can suffer what we dare not give.-- What have I said? for both of us 'twere best, Our kindling fire if each of us supprest. The faith of strangers is too prone to change, And, like themselves, their wandering passions range.