110
COWLEY'S POEMS.
BATHING IN THE RIVER.
The fish around her crowded, as they do
To the false light that treacherous fishers shew,
And all with as much ease might taken be,
As she at first took me;
For ne'er did light so clear
Among the waves appear,
Though every night the sun himself set there.
To the false light that treacherous fishers shew,
And all with as much ease might taken be,
As she at first took me;
For ne'er did light so clear
Among the waves appear,
Though every night the sun himself set there.
Why to mute fish shouldst thou thyself discover,
And not to me, thy no less silent lover?
As some from men their buried gold commit
To ghosts, that have no use of it;
Half their rich treasures so
Maids bury; and, for aught we know,
(Poor ignorants!) they're mermaids all below.
And not to me, thy no less silent lover?
As some from men their buried gold commit
To ghosts, that have no use of it;
Half their rich treasures so
Maids bury; and, for aught we know,
(Poor ignorants!) they're mermaids all below.
The amorous waves would fain about her stay,
But still new amorous waves drive them away,
And with swift current to those joys they haste,
That do as swiftly waste:
I laugh'd the wanton play to view;
But ’tis, alas at land so too,
And still old lovers yield the place to new.
But still new amorous waves drive them away,
And with swift current to those joys they haste,
That do as swiftly waste:
I laugh'd the wanton play to view;
But ’tis, alas at land so too,
And still old lovers yield the place to new.
Kiss her, and as you part, you amorous waves
(My happier rivals, and my fellow-slaves)
(My happier rivals, and my fellow-slaves)
