An ODE.

I.

While blooming Youth, and gay Delight
 Sit on thy rosey Cheeks confest;
 Thou hast, my Dear, undoubted Right
 To triumph o'er this destin'd Breast. 
My Reason bends to what thy Eyes ordain;
 For I was born to Love, and Thou to Reign. 

II.

But would You meanly thus rely
 On Power, You know I must Obey? 
Exert a Legal Tyranny,
 And do an Ill; because You may? 
Still must I Thee, as Atheists Heav'n adore;
 Not see thy Mercy, and yet dread thy Power? 

III.

Take Heed, my Dear: Youth flies apace:
 As well as Cupid, Time is blind:
 Soon must those Glories of thy Face
 The Fate of vulgar Beauty find:
 The Thousand Loves, that arm thy potent Eye,
 Must drop their Quivers, flag their Wings, and die. 

IV.

Then wilt Thou sigh; when in each Frown
 A hateful Wrinkle more appears;
 And putting peevish Humours on,
 Seems but the sad Effect of Years:
 Kindness it self too weak a Charm will prove,
 To raise the feeble Fires of aged Love. 

V.

Forc'd Compliments, and formal Bows
 Will show Thee just above Neglect:
 The Heat, with which thy Lover glows,
 Will settle into cold Respect:
 A talking dull Platonic I shall turn;
 Learn to be civil, when I cease to burn. 

VI.

Then shun the Ill, and know, my Dear,
 Kindness and Constancy will prove
 The only Pillars fit to bear
 So vast a Weight as that of Love. 
If Thou can'st wish to make My Flames endure;
 Thine must be very fierce, and very pure. 

VII.

Haste, Celia, haste, while Youth invites;
 Obey kind Cupid's present Voice;
 Fill ev'ry Sense with soft Delights,
 And give thy Soul a Loose to Joys:
 Let Millions of repeated Blisses prove,
 That Thou all Kindness art, and I all Love. 

VIII.

Be Mine, and only Mine: take care
 Thy Looks, thy Thoughts, thy Dreams to guide
 To Me alone; nor come so far,
 As liking any Youth beside:
 What Men e'er court Thee, fly 'em, and believe,
 They're Serpents all, and Thou the tempted Eve. 

IX.

So shall I court thy dearest Truth;
 When Beauty ceases to engage:
 So thinking on thy charming Youth,
 I'll love it o'er again in Age:
 So Time it self our Raptures shall improve;
 While still We wake to Joy, and live to Love.