386 THE POEMS OP ANNE �I wou'd embrace, and welcome thee to Life, �And with a loud repeated Blessing pay 170 �The pious Care, that brought it to such Dangers. �Oh! that the Love of Women shou'd be thought �To pass the Fondness which a Father feels, �When thus he grasps a Son of thy Perfections, �[Embracing him. My Dear, my Lov'd Aristor! �Aristor. My Prince, my Gen'ral, and the Best of Fathers ! �Arisiom. Thy Heart speaks loud, and knocking at my �Breast Seems as 'twould close in conference with mine. �Aristor. It would, my Lord, and strives to force its Passage. [Aristomenes looses his Arms from embracing him. �Arisiom. Oh, no my Son! for now I must be plain, 180 And tell thee, thou dost lock some Secret there Which all my depth of Kindness ne'er could fathom: I see it in the Cloud, that shades thy Brow. And still thy pensive Eyes are downwards cast, As thou wou'd' st seek the Grave, or something lower: Long have I this observed �And thought whole Nights away to find the Cause, Which now, my Son, I urge thee to reveal: And think that He who best can love thee asks it. �Aristor. Oh ! that you did not love, or would not ask it ! I cannot speak, for speaking must offend: 191 �Yet shou'd my Silence grieve such mighty Goodness, 'Twou'd break that Heart, which thus you seek to succour. Upon my Knees a strange Request I make, �[Offering to Kneel but his Father takes him up. That you would quite forget and think me Dead ; Which the approaching Battle shou'd confirm, And leave you to possess your other Comforts. �Aristom. My other Comforts! All are light to Thee: ��� �
