Page:All for love- or, The world well lost. A tragedy as it is acted at the Theatre-Royal; and written in imitation of Shakespeare's stile. By John Dryden, servant to His Majesty (IA allforloveorworl00indryd).pdf/56

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Thought how those white arms would fold me in, And strain me close, and melt me into love; So pleas'd with that sweet Image, I sprung forwards, And added all my strength to every blow;

Cleo.Come to me, come my Soldier, to my Arms, You've been too long away from my embraces; But, when I have you fast, and all my own, With broken murmurs, and with amorous sighs, I'll say, you were unkind, and punish you, And mark you red with many an eager kiss.

Ant.My Brighter Venus!

Cleo.O my greater Mars!

Ant.Thou joinst us well, my Love! Suppose me come from the Phlegræan Plains, Where gasping Gyants lay, cleft by my Sword; And Mountain tops par'd off each other blow, To bury those I slew: receive me, goddess: Let Cæsar spread his subtle Nets, like Vulcan, In thy embraces I would be beheld By Heav'n and Earth at once: And make their envy what they meant their sport. Let those who took us blush; I would love on With awful State, regardless of their frowns, As