Ephelia

England

To Damon.

Gay Fop! that know'st no higher Flights than Sense,
What was it gave thee so much Impudence,
T'attempt the violation of a Shrine,
That lodged a Soul so Sacred, so Divine?
Her lovely Face might teach thee to Adore,
But could not tempt thee to a loose Amour:
Such charming goodness in her Eyes appear,
Might strike a Satyr with a awful fear;
But thou less humane, and more wild than they,
Thy impious Passion durst before her lay:
Sweet Innocence, how she amaz├Ęd stood,
To hear such Tales, how her affrighted blood
Flushed in her Face, and then recoiled again,
To hear discourse so horridly Profane!
She looked such things might teach thee to despair,
Dissolve thy Being, fright thee into Air:
But thy unpar'lleled boldness durst despise
The Sacred Lightning that flashed from her Eyes;
And by a second Guilt, durst tempt her Tongue
To thunder Vengance on thee, for her Wrong.
Impious Criminal! for this Offense,
Heaven hardly will accept of Penitence:
In tempting of her Virtue, know that you
Have done more than the Devil dared to do:
Audacious Villain! sure, thou next wilt try
Deposing of thy God, to rule the Sky:
That Action hardly can more wicked be,
Than what already hath been done by Thee.
If e'er again thy Crime thou dost repeat,
Expect thy Ruin to be quick, and great.
With Thunderbolts thou shalt be crushed to Hell,
There with the Devils, and the Damned to dwell:
While that bright Maid, that thou wouldst have betrayed,
Shall be by Angels loved, by Men obeyed.
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