Page:The Poetical Works of Thomas Parnell (1833).djvu/149

Rh I learn'd in yonder waving grove. And see, says Love, who called me near, How much I deal with Nature here, How both support a proper part, She gives the feather, I the dart. Then cease for souls averse to sigh, If Nature cross ye, so do I; My weapon there unfeather'd flies, And shakes and shuffles through the skies: But if the mutual charms I find By which she links you, mind to mind, They wing my shafts, I poise the darts, And strike from both, through both your hearts.