Cloe Jealous.

CLOE JEALOUS.

I.

Forbear to ask Me, why I weep; Vext Cloe to her Shepherd said: 'Tis for my Two poor stragling Sheep Perhaps, or for my Squirrel dead.

II.

For mind I what You late have writ? Your subtle Questions, and Replies; Emblems, to teach a Female Wit The Ways, where changing Cupid flies.

III.

Your Riddle, purpos'd to rehearse The general Pow'r that Beauty has: But why did no peculiar Verse Describe one Charm of Cloe's Face?

IV.

The Glass, which was at Venus' Shrine, With such Mysterious Sorrow laid: The Garland (and You call it Mine) Which show'd how Youth and Beauty fade.

V.

Ten thousand Trifles light as These Nor can my Rage, nor Anger move: She shou'd be humble, who wou'd please: And She must suffer, who can love.

VI.

When in My Glass I chanc'd to look; Of Venus what did I implore? That ev'ry Grace which thence I took, Shou'd know to charm my Damon more.

VII.

Reading Thy Verse; who heeds, said I, If here or there his Glances flew? O free for ever be His Eye, Whose Heart to Me is always true.

VIII.

My Bloom indeed, my little Flow'r Of Beauty quickly lost it's Pride: For sever'd from it's Native Bow'r, It on Thy glowing Bosom dy'd.

IX.

Yet car'd I not, what might presage Or withering Wreath, or fleeting Youth: Love I esteem'd more strong than Age, And Time less permanent than Truth.

X.

Why then I weep, forbear to know: Fall uncontroll'd my Tears, and free: O Damon, 'tis the only Woe, I ever yet conceal'd from Thee.

XI.

The secret Wound with which I bleed Shall lie wrapt up, ev'n in my Herse: But on my Tomb-stone Thou shalt read My Answer to Thy dubious Verse.