Here Cleopatra, with a liberal heart,
Bounteous of love, improv’d the joy with art;
The firſt who gave recruited ſlaves to know
That the rich pearl was of more uſe than ſhow;
Who with high meats, or a luxurious draught,85
Kept love for ever flowing and full fraught.
Julius and Anthony, thoſe lords of all,
Each in his turn, preſent the conquer’d ball;
Thoſe dreadful Eagles that had fac’d the light
From pole to pole, fall dazzled at her ſight:90
Nor was her death leſs glorious than her life,
A conſtant miſtreſs, and a faithful wife.
Her dying truth ſome gen’rous tears would coſt,
Had not her fate inſpir’d “The World Well Loſt.”[1]
With ſecret pride the raviſh’d Muſes view95
The image of that death which Dryden drew.
Pleas’d in ſuch happy climates, warm and bright,
Love for ſome ages revell’d with delight.
The martial Moors, in gallantry refin’d,
Invent new arts to make their charmers kind.100
See! in the liſts, by golden harriers bound,
In warlike ranks they wait the trumpet’s ſound;
Some love-device is wrought on ev’ry ſword,
And ev’ry ribbon bears ſome myſtic word:
As when we ſee the winged winds engage,105
Mounted on courſers foaming flame and rage,
- ↑ All For Love; or, The World Well Loſt. Written by Mr. Dryden.
