ABRAHAM COWLEY
Here ; s the spring-head of Pleasure's flood: Here 's wealthy Nature's treasury, Where all the riches lie that she
Has coin'd and stamp'd for good. Pride and ambition here Only in far-fetch'd metaphors appear; Here nought but winds can hurtful murmurs scatter, And nought but Echo flatter.
The gods, when they descended, hither From heaven did always choose their way: And therefore we may boldly say
That 'tis the way too thither. How happy here should I And one dear She live, and embracing die! She who is all the world, and can exclude In deserts solitude.
I should have then this only fear: Lest men, when they my pleasures see, Should hither throng to live like me,
And so make a city here.
ALEXANDER BROME 363 The Resolve
^ELL me not of a face that 's fair, Nor lip and cheek that 's red, Nor of the tresses of her hair,
Nor curls in order laid, Nor of a rare seraphic voice That like an angel sings; Though if I were to take my choice I would have all these things:
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