Then like some Town, by _War-like Numbers_ sought,
That long against its Enemies has fought,
And oft with Courage brav'd the _shining Field_, }
Yet in the end by Want or Force compell'd, }
It does with Honour to the _Conqueror_ Yield. }

So to my Lover I'd my Heart resign,
The Conquest his, the Glory should be mine.
With mutual Love my Nuptials shou'd be Blest, }
Then to my Arms I'd call the Welcome Guest, }
And Celebrate with Joy great _Hymen_'s Feast. }

Marriage is Bondage, but where _Cupid_ Reigns,
The Yoke is easie; Glorious are the Chains:
His Fetters please, nor wish we to be Free,
But Glory in the Loss of Liberty:
And yet but half our Thanks we owe the Boy,
He gives us Love, 'tis _Hymen_ gives us Joy;
Well might the Poets feign those Gods a-kin,
For we are only Happy where they join.
As when _Aurora_ does the Bridal Morn,
With an uncommon Gayety Adorn
From its Illustrious Pride with ease we may
Foretel the Brightness of the coming Day:
So when true Love the Sacred Tye precedes,
Secure of Happiness that Couple weds;
No Threat'ning Storms do e'er Molest their Joy,
Nor Anxious Quarrels do their Peace destroy;
Their days slide on in the securest ease,
And Circle in Eternal Rounds of Bliss.