142
The Life of
SOUL.
My gentler reſt is on a thought,
Conſcious of doing what I ought.
PLEASURE.
If thou be’ſt with perfumes pleas’d,
Such as oft the gods appeas’d,
Thou in fragrant clouds ſhalt ſhow
Like another god below.
SOUL.
A Soul that knows not to preſume,
Is heaven’s, and its own, perfume.
PLEASURE.
Every thing does ſeem to vye
Which ſhould firſt attract thine eye:
But ſince none deſerves that grace,
In this cryſtal view thy face.
SOUL.
When the creator’s ſkill is priz’d,
The reſt is all but earth diſguis’d.
PLEASURE.
Hark how muſic then prepares,
For thy ſtay, theſe charming airs;
Which the poſting winds recall,
And ſuſpend the river’s fall.
SOUL.
