A Dialogue between Philander and Silvia

Ph. In a Desart in Greenland, where the Sun ne'er cast an Eye,
In contempt of all the World I cou'd live with thee my Joy.
Si. On the Sands of scorcht India, where the Sun-burnt Natives fry,
Blest with thee, my dear Philander, I do choose to live and dye,
Ph. No Nymph with her sly charming art,
Ere shall have pow'r to steal my Heart;
Thou art all and all in every part,
Each Vein of me shall ever be,
Panting with Love of thee.
Si. No Swain with his Wealth, Wit or Art,
E'er shall have power to storm my Hear•,
Thou art all and all in every part,
Each Vein of me will ever be,
Panting with Love of thee.

Ph. Let the Monarch's Ambition seek new Empire to obtain,
Let the Miser sell his Soul to encrease his slavish gain,
Si. Let the politick Gown-man tread the Mazes of the State,
Let the Reverend Divine teach Mankind decrees […] Fate.
Ph. Give me the dear Nymph I adore,
Happy or unlucky, Rich or Poor,
Of bounteous Heaven I'd ask no more,
Nor ever care who's rich or fair,
There's all the World in her.
Si. Let no Cloud of Ill Fortune rise,
To shade me from Philander's Eyes,
Farewel ye World deluding's Joys,
No Charm would seem worth my esteem
I have all I wish in him.