And when the lamp of life will burn no more,
When dead she seems as in a gentle sleep;
The pitying neighbour shall her loss deplore,
And round the bier assembled lovers weep.
With flowery garlands each revolving Year
Shall strow the grave where Truth and Softness rest,
Then, home returning, drop the pious tear,
And bid the turf lie easy on her breast.
TO HIS FRIEND, WRITTEN UNDER THE CONFINEMENT OF A LONG INDISPOSITION.
WHILE calm you sit beneath your secret shade,
And lose in pleasing thought the summer-day,
Or tempt the wish of some unpractis'd maid,
Whose heart at once inclines and fears to stray.
The sprightly vigour of my youth is fled;
Lonely and sick, on death is all my thought:
Oh! spare, Persephone! this guiltless head;
Love, too much love, is all thy suppliant's fault.
No virgin's easy faith I e'er betray'd;
My tongue ne'er boasted of a feign'd embrace;
No poisons in the cup have I convey'd,
Nor veil'd destruction with a friendly face.
No secret horrors gnaw this quiet breast;
This pious hand ne'er robb'd the sacred fane;
I ne'er disturb'd the gods' eternal rest
With curses loud-but oft have pray'd in vain !
No stealth of Time has thinn'd my flowing hair,
Nor age yet bent me with his iron hand:
Ah! why so soon the tender blossom tear,
Ere Autumn yet the ripen'd fruit demand?
Ye gods, whoe'er in gloomy shades below
Now slowly tread your melancholy round,
Now wandering view the baleful rivers flow,
And, musing, hearken to their solemn sound!
Oh! let me still enjoy the cheerful day,
Till, many years unheeded o'er me roll'd;
Pleas'd in my age, I trifle life away,
And tell how much we lov'd, ere I grew old.
But you who, now with festive garland's crown'd,
In chase of pleasure the gay moments spend,
By quick enjoyment heal love's pleasing wound,
And grieve for nothing but your absent friend.
THE LOVER IS AT FIRST INTRODUCED SPEAKING TO HIS SERVANT; HE AFTERWARDS ADDRESSES HIMSELF TO HIS MISTRESS; AND AT LAST THERE IS A SUPPOSED INTERVIEW BETWEEN THEM.
WITH Wine, more wine, deceive thy master's care, Till creeping slumber soothe his troubled breast; Let not a whisper stir the silent air,
If hapless Love a-while consent to rest.
Untoward guards beset my Cynthia's doors,
And cruel locks the' imprison'd fair conceal:
May lightnings blast whom Love in vain implores,
And Jove's own thunder rive those bolts of steel!
Ah, gentle door! attend my humble call,
Nor let thy sounding hinge our thefts betray;
So all my curses far from thee shall fall:
We angry lovers mean not half we say.
Remember now the flowery wreaths I gave
When first I told thee of my bold desires;
Nor thou, O Cynthia! fear the watchful slave;
Venus will favour what herself inspires.
She guides the youth who see not where they tread; She shows the virgin how to turn the door :
Softly to steal from off her silent bed,
And not a step betray her on the floor.
The fearless lover wants no beam of light;
The robber knows him, nor obstructs his way:
Sacred he wanders through the pathless night,
Belongs to Venus, and can never stray.
I scorn the chilling wind and beating rain,
Nor heed cold watchings on the dewy ground,
If all the hardships I for love sustain
With love's victorious joys at last be crown'd.
With sudden step let none our bliss surprise,
Or check the freedom of secure delight-
Rash man, beware! and shut thy curious eyes,
Lest
angry Venus snatch their guilty sight.
But should'st thou see, the' important secret hide, Though question'd by the Powers of earth and heaven;
The prating tongue shall Love's revenge abide, Still sue for grace, and never be forgiven.
A wizard-dame, the lover's ancient friend,
With magic charm has deaft thy husband's ear;
At her command I saw the stars descend,
And winged lightnings stop in mid career.
I saw her stamp, and cleave the solid ground,
While ghastly spectres round us wildly roam;
I saw them hearken to her potent sound,
Till, scar'd at day, they sought their dreary home.
At her command the vigorous Summer pines,
And wintry clouds obscure the hopeful year;
At her strong bidding gloomy Winter shines,
And vernal roses on the snows appear.
She gave these charms which I on thee bestow; They dim the eye, and dull the jealous mind; For me they make a husband nothing know: For me, and only me, they make him blind.
But what did most this faithful heart surprise,
She boasted that her skill could set it free;
This faithful heart the boasted freedom flies;
How could it venture to abandon thee?
HE ADJURES DELIA TO PITY HIM BY THEIR FRIEND-
SHIP WITH CÆLIA, WHO WAS LATELY DEAD.
THOUSANDS Would seek the lasting peace of death,
And in that harbour shun the storm of care;
Officious Hope still holds the fleeting breath;
She tells them still-To-morrow will be fair.
She tells me, Delia, I shall thee obtain;
But can I listen to her syren song,
Who seven slow months have dragg'd my painful chain,
So long thy lover, and despis'd so long?
By all the joys thy dearest Cælia gave,
Let not her once-lov'd friend unpitied burn
So may her ashes find a peaceful grave,
And sleep uninjur'd in their sacred urn.
To her I first avow'd my timorous flame;
She nurs❜d my hopes, and taught me how to sue :
She still would pity what the wise might blame,
And feel for weakness which she never knew.
Ah! do not grieve the dear lamented shade,
That, hovering round us, all my sufferings hears'
She is my saint-to her my prayers are made,
With oft repeated gifts of flowers and tears.
To her sad tomb at midnight I retire,
And lonely sitting by the silent stone,
I tell it all the griefs my wrongs inspire;
The marble image seems to hear my moan,
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