To the Same.

To the Same.

I.

WHEN I think on your truth, I doubt you no more, I blame all the fears I gave way to before, I say to my heart, "Be at rest, and believe That whom once she has chosen she never will leave.

II.

But ah! when I think on each ravishing grace That plays in the smiles of that heavenly face, My heart beats again; I again apprehend Some fortunate rival in every friend.

III.

These painful suspicions you cannot remove, Since you neither can lessen your charms nor my love; But doubts caus'd by passion you never can blame; For they are not ill founded, or you feel the same.