POETRY. 4.55 



Enfeebled by the scorching ray, 

 She slept the sultry hours away ; 

 And when she op'd her languid eye, 

 Found her silver urn was dry. 



Heedless stranger, who so long 

 Hast listened to an idle song. 

 Whilst trifles thus thy notice share, 

 Hast thou no urn that asks thy care ? 



LADY CARLISLE'S ANSWER /o3/r*. Greville's Ode to Indifference. 



IS that your wish, to lose all sense 

 In dull lethargic ease, 

 And, wrapt in cold Indifference, 

 But half be pleas'd or please ? 



If dictated by deep despair, 



You all our pity claim ; 

 If not, 'tis sure the strangest wish 



That woman e'er did frame. 



Who can decide 'twixt you and me ? 



There's no disputing taste : 

 But this I know, we disagree 



As wide as east from west. 



Inferior far my pow'r to please, 



If all I've heard be true ; 

 Yet beats my heart for more than ease. 



And cannot pray with you. 



It never shall be my desire. 



To heat a heart unmov'd. 

 To feel by halves the generous fire. 



Or be but half belov'd. 



Let me drink deep the dang'rous cup. 



In hopes the prize to gain. 

 Nor tamely give the pleasure up 



For fear to share the pain. 



If languid ease they cannot know, 



Who have not hearts of steel ; 

 Yet height of bliss, as well as woe, 



They must alternate feel. 



