my busy, fond, roving hands, and lay at her feet, like a tame slave,
her adoring

PHILANDER.

* * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER.

Approach, approach, you sacred Queen of Night, and bring _Philander_
veil'd from all eyes but mine; approach at a fond lover's call, behold
how I lie panting with expectation, tir'd out with your tedious
ceremony to the God of Day; be kind, oh lovely night, and let the
deity descend to his beloved _Thetis_'s arms, and I to my
_Philander_'s; the sun and I must snatch our joys in the same happy
hours; favour'd by thee, oh sacred, silent Night! See, see, the
enamour'd sun is hasting on apace to his expecting mistress, while
thou dull Night art slowly lingering yet. Advance, my friend! my
goddess! and my confidante! hide all my blushes, all my soft
confusions, my tremblings, transports, and eyes all languishing.

Oh _Philander_! a thousand things I have done to divert the tedious
hours, but nothing can; all things are dull without thee. I am tir'd
with every thing, impatient to end, as soon as I begin them; even the
shades and solitary walks afford me now no ease, no satisfaction, and
thought but afflicts me more, that us'd to relieve. And I at last have
recourse to my kind pen: for while I write, methinks I am talking to
thee; I tell thee thus my soul, while thou, methinks, art all the
while smiling and listening by; this is much easier than silent
thought, and my soul is never weary of this converse; and thus I would