Then to her I cry aloud, And labour to reach the sky. When thus I have rav'd a while, And bitterly do complain; I dream that my charming fair Grim king of the ghosts, be true, To th' Elifan fhades I poft, Befs FR Bels of Bedlam. ROM filent fhades, and the Elifium groves, Where fad departed fpirits mourn their loves; From crystal streams, and from that country, where Fove crowns the fields with flowers all the year, Poor fenfeless Befs, cloath'd in her rags and folly, Is come to cure her love-fick melancholy. Bright Cynthia kept her revels late, While Mab, the fairy queen, did dance; And Oberon did fit in slate, When Mars at Venus ran his lance. In yonder cowflip lies my dear, I'll lay me down and die, The raven and cat, The owl and bat, Did you not fee my love If he comes nigh you, Ladies, beware you, Left he should dart a glance Hark, hark, I hear old, Charon bawl, Poor Befs will return To the place when the came, Since the world is fo mad fhe can hope for no cure; For love's grown a bubble, A fhadow, a name, Which fools do admire, and wife men endure. Cold and hungry am I grown, Ambrofia will I feed upon, Who Who is content, Does all forrow prevent; Whilft free from the law, In her thoughts is as great as a king. CELIA's Complaint. REMEMBER, Damon, you did tell, In chastity you lov'd me well; But now, alas! I am undone, To doleful fhades I will remove, Since I'm defpis'd by him I love, Where poor forfaken nymphs are feen, In lonely walks of willow green. Upon my dear's deluding tongue, Too happy nymph, whoe'er fhe be Beneath Beneath the fairest flower on earth, 'Tis falfe, who fays we happy are, Since men delight our hearts t'enfnare: In man no woman can be bleft; Their vows are wind, their love's a jest. Ye gods, in pity to my grief, But whilst I'm begging of this bliss, There's not a bird that haunts this grove, But is a witness of my love; Echo repeats my plaintive moans, The waters imitate iny groans, The trees their bending boughs recline, VOL. II. 2 Beanty |