1. SHE Loves, and she confesses too; There's then at last, no more to do. The happy work's entirely done; Enter the Town which thou hast won; The Fruits of Conquest now begin; Iô Triumph! Enter in. 2. What's this, ye Gods, what can it be? Remains there still an Enemie? Bold Honor stands up in the Gate, And would yet Capitulate; Have I orecome all real foes, And shall this Phantome me oppose? 3. Noisy Nothing! Stalking shade! By what Witchcraft wert thou made? Empty cause of Solid harms! But I shall find out Counter-charms Thy airy Devi'lship to remove From this Circle here of Love. 4. Sure I shall rid my self of Thee By the Nights obscurity, And obscurer secresie. Unlike to every other spright, Thou attempt'st not men t'affright, Nor appear'st but in the Light.