The Proselite.

FArewel thou dearest of my Crimes,
Be never more th' abuser of my Times,
Lest that I curse too late
The errors of that Fate,
Which made me love thee;
All ye Deities divine
Strengthen this request of mine;
Then may I say,
Frail delight pass away,
I am rul'd by a Power that is above thee.

No more shall thy seducing smiles,
Thy winning looks, or other sweet beguiles
Have power to withdraw
My heart from Love, by Law
Seal'd to another:
Cupid I thy power defie,
Thou'rt a flatte'ring Deity;
And there are none,
But confess thee the Son
Of a fair, foolish, fickle wanton Mother.