But by magnanimous difdain. A wit that, temperately bright, All pleafing fhone; nor ever past The decent bounds that Wifdom's fober hand, In life's and glory's freshest bloom, Death came remorfelefs on, and funk her to the tomb So, where the filent streams of Liris glide, When now the wintery tempefts all are fied, Cold with perpetual snows: The tender blighted plant fhrinks up its leaves, and d 2 XIV. A XIV. Arife, O Petrarch, from th' Elyfian bowers, And fragrant with ambrofial flowers, Where to thy Laura thou again art join'd; Arife, and hither bring the filver lyre, To the foft notes of elegant defire, Was spread the fame of thy disastrous love; And teach my forrows to relate As may ev'n things inanimate, Rough mountain oaks and defart rocks, to pity move. What were, alas! thy woes compar'd to mine? Of Hymen never gave her hand; The joys of wedded love were never thine. In thy domeftic care She never bore a share, Nor with endearing art Would heal thy wounded heart Of every fecret grief that fefter'd there: With pledges dear, and with a father's tender name. XVI. "O beft of wives! O dearer far to me How can my foul endure the loss of thee? Abandon'd and alone, Without my fweet companion can I live? The dear reward of every virtuous toil, What pleafures now can pall'd Ambition give? Ev'n the delightful fenfe of well-earn'd praise, Unfhar'd by thee, no more my lifelefs thoughts co raife. XVII. For my diftracted mind What fuccour can I find? On whom for confolation fhall I call? Support me, every friend; Your kind affiftance lend, To bear the weight of this oppreffive woe. My dear departed love, fo much was thine, My books, the best relief In every other grief, Are now with your idea fadden'd all : Each favourite author we together read My tortur'd memory wounds, and fpeaks of Lucy des XVIII. W XVIII. We were the happiest pair of human kind: And faw our happiness unchang'd remain : Harmonious Concord did our wishes bind: That all this pleafing fabric Love had rais'd On which ev'n wanton Vice with envy gaz'd, In one fad moment broke! Yet, O my foul, thy rifing murmurs stay; With impious grief complain. That all thy full-blown joys at once should fade; Was his moft righteous will-and be that will obey'd. XIX. Would thy fond love his grace to her control, And in thefe low abodes of fin and pain Her pure exalted foul Unjustly for thy partial good detain ? No-rather strive thy groveling mind to raise That That heavenly radiance of eternal light, Ev'n Love itself, if rifing by degrees MADE ADE to engage all hearts, and charm all eyes: Polite, as all her life in courts had been ; He |