While from our looks, fair nymph, you guess br The secret passions of our mind; br My heavy eyes, you say, confess br A heart to love and grief inclined. br br There needs, alas! but little art br To have this fatal secret found; br With the same ease you threw the dart, br 'Tis certain you can show the wound. br br How can I see you, and not love, br While you as opening cast are fair? br While cold as northern blasts you prove, br How can I love, and not despair? br br The wretch in double fetters bound br Your potent mercy may release; br Soon, if my love but once were crown'd, br Fair prophetess, my grief would cease.