128 THE POEMS OF ANNE �Think on the pow'r, that arms your eyes, The charms that in them shine, �Think on their aptnesse to surprise, And of the love in mine. �Then to my wishing looks afoard The heart for which they sue, �And take a longing lovers word, That some men can be true. �A SONG Melinda to Alcander �Witt, as free, and unconfin'd �As the universal air, Was not alotted to mankind, �Leaving us, without our share; No, we posesse alike that fire, And all you boast of, we inspire. �Fancy, does from beauty rise, Beauty, teatches you to write, �Your flames are borrow' d from our Eyes, You but speak, what they endite. �Then cease to boast alone, that Fame. �Witt, and love, we give and claime. �A SONG �By Love persu'd, In vain I fly �To shades, as lost and wild as I ; �Cold earth my hopes, sharp thorns my cares, �Here lively paint, and urge my tears; �Fancy, makes all things bear a part, �And shews a Rock, for Sylvia's heart. ��� �
