Page:The Works of Abraham Cowley - volume 2 (ed. Aikin) (1806).djvu/19

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THE THRALDOM.
5
Piercing the armour of their scales;
And still thy sea-born mother lives i' th' sea.
Dost thou deny only to me
The no-great privilege of captivity?
I beg or challenge here thy bow;
Either thy pity to me, or else thine anger, show.

Come! or I'll teach the world to scorn that bow:
I'll teach them thousand wholesome arts
Both to resist and cure thy darts,
More than thy skilful Ovid e'er did know.
Musick of sighs thou shalt not hear,
Nor drink one wretched lover's tasteful tear:
Nay, unless soon thou woundest me,
My verses shall not only wound, but murder, thee.



THE THRALDOM.

I Came, I saw, and was undone;
Lightning did through my bones and marrow run;
A pointed pain pierc'd deep my heart;
A swift cold trembling seiz'd on every part;
My head turn'd round, nor could it bear
The poison that was enter'd there.

So a destroying-angel's breath
Blows-in the plague, and with it hasty death: