326 THE POEMS OF ANNE �And, kneeling thus, I'd woo thee to a pardon. Our time to come shou'd all have passt in love, And joys as soft, and melting as this bosome, Marina, oh Marina, must we part? By this embrace, and this, I swear we will not. �[She strives and he quitts his hold. �Again thy charms, o'recome my ravish'd sence, 30 �And empty honour shall not take thee hence. �[Going to embrace her. �Mar. Forbear, my lord, forbear, this must not bee, And if again such libertys you take, I shall beleive, you think me what they say, Pray rise Alas, you're weak, you stagger, lett me help you. �[He rises and sits down by her. Now lett us talk awhile, before we sever, For they have much to say who part for ever. Since first I listen' d to your vows, my lord, How I have lov'd you, lett my ruine speak, 40 �That but for you, I priz'd my blooming Youth, And what your passion call'd some share of beauty, Lett my concealing itt from all the world When once you slighted itt, bear witnesse for me. That now I love you, more then Misers wealth, Then women courtship, or then Tyrant's pow'r, Lett this persuade, this last, this tend'rest proof, That I will leave you, to secure your fame, Though woo'd to stay, by all your moving arts, And death must waite upon the seperation. 50 �Blan. If we must seperate, to dye is best, But lett me know Marina thy retreat, That fame, when charg'd with tidings of my fate, May not mistake y e way, and misse thy mantion. �Mar. Oh! n'ere believe that she will stoop so low ��� �
