J. C. Squire, ed. A Book of Women’s Verse. 1921.
By Ephelia (17th Cent.?)To Phylocles, inviting him to Friendship
B
Dwell in the bosom of inconstant man,
As cold and clear as ice, as snow unstained,
With Love’s loose crimes unsullied, unprofaned,
And think to friendship’s ties we can be just,
In a strict league together we’ll combine,
And [] friendship’s bright example shine.
Nor shall the world’s rude censure us perplex
Think me all man: my soul is masculine,
And capable of as great things as thine.
Secret and silent as the grave,
And if I cannot yield relief,
I’ll sympathise in all thy grief.
In all my actions thou shalt be my guide;
In every joy of mine thou shalt have share,
And I will bear a part in all thy care.
We’ll mix our souls, you shall be me, I you;
And both so one it shall be hard to say
Which is Phylocles, which Ephelia.
Conquerors and kings our joys shall emulate;
Forgotten friendship, held at first divine,
To its native purity we will refine.