Şiir 9
In sleep, and wine dissolv'd, the camp surprise;
So when the jealous to their rest remove,
And all is hush'd, — the other steals to love.
You then, who think that love's an idle fit,
Know, that it is the exercise of wit.
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In flames of love the fierce Achilles burns,
And, quitting arms, absent Briseis mourns:
From the embraces of Andromache
Went Hector arm'd for war, and victory.
As Agamemnon saw Cassandra pass
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With hair dishevell'd, and disorder'd dress,
H' admir'd the beauties of the prophetess:
The god of war was caught in th' act of love;
A story know to all the court above.
Once did I pass my hours in sloth and ease,
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Cool shades and beds of down could only please;
When a commanding beauty rais'd my mind,
I left all little trifling thoughts behind,
And to her service all my heart resign'd:
Since, like an active soldier, have I spent
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