Thoughtful nights, and restless waking,
O the pains that we endure !
Broken faith, unkind forfaking,
Ever doubting, never fure.
Hopes deceiving, vain endeavours,
What a race has love to run!
Falfe protefting, fleeting favours,
Every, every way undone.
Still complaining, and defending,
Both to love, yet not agree,
Fears tormenting, paffion rending,
O the pangs of jealoufy!
From fuch painful ways of living,
Ah how fweet, could love be free!
Still prefenting, ftill receiving,
Fierce immortal ecstasy.
When I approach the perjur'd maid,
What is it awes my timorous heart?
Why is my tongue afraid ?
With the leaft glance a little kind,
Such wondrous power have Myra's charms,
She calms my doubts, enflaves my mind,
And all my rage disarms.
Forgetful of her broken vows,
When gazing on that form divine,
Her injur'd vaffal trembling bows,
Nor dares her flave repine.
IX, mix the philtres---Quick---she flies, the flies,
Deaf to my call, regardless of my cries.
Are vows fo vain? Could oaths fo feeble prove?
Ah with what eafe fhe breaks those chains of love!
Whom Love with all his arts had bound in vain,
Let charms compel, and magic rites regain.
Begin, begin, the myftic fpells prepare ;
Bring Myra back, my perjur'd wanderer.
Queen of the night, bright empress of the stars,
The friend of love, affift a lover's cares:
And thou, infernal Hecate, be nigh,
At whose approach fierce wolves affrighted fly,
Dark tombs disclose their dead, and hollow cries
Echo from under ground; Arife, arise.
Begin, begin, the myftic fpells prepare;
Bring Myra back, my perjur'd wanderer.
As crackling in the fire this laurel lies,
So ftruggling in Love's flames her lover dies :
It bursts, and in a blaze of light expires;
So may fhe burn, but with more lafting fires.
Begin, begin, the myftic fpells prepare ;
Bring Myra back, my perjur'd wanderer.
As the wax melts that to the flames I hold,
So may the melt, but never more grow cold;
Pliant and warm may still her heart remain,
Soft for the print, but ne'er turn hard again.
Tough iron will yield, and stubborn marble run,
And hardeft hearts by love are melted down.
Begin, begin, the myftic fpells prepare ;
Bring Myra back, my perjur'd wanderer.
As with impetuous motion whirl'd apace,
This magic wheel still moves, yet keeps its place,
Ever returning fo may the come back,
And never more th' appointed round forfake.
Begin, begin, the myftic fpells prepare ;
Bring Myra back, my perjur'd wanderer.
Diana, hail all hail! Moft welcome thou,
To whom th' infernal king and judges bow :
O thou who canft the powers of hell perfuade,
Now try thy charms upon a faithless maid.
Hark! the dogs bark! She comes, the goddefs comes :
Sound, found aloud, and beat our brazen drums.
Begin, begin, the mystic spells prepare ;
Bring Myra back, my perjur'd wanderer. How calm's the sky! how undisturb'd the deep! Nature is hufh'd, the very tempefts fleep,
The drowsy winds breathe gently through the trees,
And filent on the beach repofe the feas :
Love only wakes: the storm that tears my breast
For ever rages, and distracts
O Love! refentlefs Love! tyrant accurft!
In deferts bred, by cruel tigers nurst!
Begin, begin, the myftic fpells prepare ;
Bring Myra back, my perjur'd wanderer.
This riband that once bound her lovely waste,
O that my arms might gird her there as fast!
Smiling fhe gave it, and I priz'd it more,
Than the rich zone th' Idalian goddefs wore.
This riband, this lov'd relick of the fair,
So kifs'd, and fo preferv'd---Thus, thus I tear.
O Love! why doft thou thus delight to rend
My foul with pain? Ah, why torment thy friend!
Begin, begin, the myftic fpells prepare ;
Bring Myra back, my perjur'd wanderer.
Thrice have I facrific'd, and proftrate thrice
Ador'd: affift, ye powers, the facrifice.
Who-e'er he is, whom now the fair beguiles
With guilty glances, and with perjur'd finiles,
Malignant vapours blast his impious head,
Ye lightning fcorch him, thunder ftrike him dead,
Horror of confcience all his flumbers break,
Distract his rest, as love keeps me awake;
If marry'd, may his wife a Helen be,
And curft and fcorn'd, like Menelaus he.
Begin, begin, the myftic fpells prepare;
Bring Myra back, my perjur'd wanderer.
These powerful drops thrice on the threshold pour,
And bathe with this enchanted juice her door,
That door where no admittance now is found,
But where my foul is ever hovering round.
Hafte, and obey: and binding be the fpell.
Here ends my charm: O Love, fucceed it well :
By force of magick ftop the flying fair,
Bring Myra back, my perjur'd wanderer.
Thou'rt now alone; and painful is restraint:
Eafe thy preft heart, and give thy forrows vent,
Whence fprang, and how began these griefs, declare,
How much thy love, how cruel thy despair.
Ye moon and stars, by whofe aufpicious light
I haunt these groves, and waste the tedious night,
Tell, for you know the burthen of my heart,
Its killing anguish, and its fecret smart.
Too late for hope, for my repofe too foon,
I saw, and lov'd: her heart, engag'd, was gone:
A happier man poffefs'd whom I adore;
O I should ne'er have feen, or feen before.
Tell, for you know the burthen of my heart, Its killing anguifh, and its fecret smart. What fhall I do? Shall I in filence bear, Destroy myself, or kill the ravisher ?
Die, wretched lover, die but ah beware,
Hurt not the man who is belov'd by her.
Wait for a better hour, and trust thy fate :
Thou feek'ft her love, beget not then her hate,
Tell, for you know the burthen of my heart,
Its killing anguish and its fecret smart.
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