Her timorous charms, and her unpractis'd look,
Their firft affurance from my conqueft took;
fhe learn'd the fatal art,

By wounding me,
And the first figh fhe had was from my heart:
My eyes, with tears moistening her fnowy arms,
Render'd the tribute owing to her charms.
But, as I fooneft of all mortals paid

My vows, and to her beauty altars made;
So, among all thofe flaves that figh'd in vain,
She thought me only worthy of my chain :
Love's heavy burden my fubmiffive heart
Endur'd not long, before the bore her part;
My violent flame melted her frozen breast,
And in foft fighs her pity the express'd;
Her gentle voice allay'd my raging pains,
And her fair hands fuftain'd me in my chains;
Ev'n tears of pity waited on my moan,
And tender looks were caft on me alone.

My hopes and dangers were lefs mine than hers,
Those fill'd her foul with joys, and thefe with fears;
Our hearts, united, had the fame defires,
And both alike burn'd with impatient fires.
Too faithful Memory! I give thee leave
Thy wretched matter kindly to deceive;
Oh, make me not poffeffor of her charms,
Let me not find her languish in my arms;
Paft joys are now my fancy's mournful themes;
Make all my happy nights appear but dreams :
Let not fuch blifs before my eyes be brought,
O hide thofe fcenes from my tormenting thought;

And

And in their place difdainful beauty show;
If thou would'ft not be cruel, make her fo:
And, fomething to abate my deep despair,
O let her feem lefs gentle, or less fair.
But I in vain flatter my wounded mind;
Never was nymph so lovely or so kind :
fo
No cold repulfes my defires fuppreft,

I feldom figh'd, but on Almeria's breast:
Of all the paffions which mankind destroy,
I only felt excefs of love and joy:

Unnumber'd pleafures charm'd my fenfe, and they
Were, as my love, without the least allay.
As pure, alas! but not fo fure to laft,

For, like a pleafing dream, they are all past.

From heaven her beauties like fierce lightnings came
Which break through darkness with a glorious flame;
Awhile they fhine, awhile our minds amaze,
Our wondering eyes are dazzled with the blaze;
But thunder follows, whofe refiftlefs rage
None can withstand, and nothing can affuage;
And all that light which those bright flashes gave,
Serves only to conduct us to our grave.

When I had just begun love's joys to taste,
(Thofe full rewards for fears and dangers past).
A fever feiz'd her, and to nothing brought
The richest work that ever nature wrought.
All things below, alas! uncertain ftand;
The firmeft rocks are fix'd upon the fand :
Under this law both kings and kingdoms bend,
And no beginning is without an end.

A facrifice

A facrifice to time, fate dooms to us all,
And at the tyrant's feet we daily fall:

Time, whofe bold hand will bring alike to duft
Mankind, and temples too in which they trust.
Her wafted fpirits now begin to faint,
Yet patience ties her tongue from all complaint,
And in her heart as in a fort remains;

But yields at laft to her refistless pains.
Thus while the fever, amorous of his prey,
Through all her veins makes his delightful way,
Her fate's like Semele's; the flames destroy
That beauty they too cagerly enjoy.
Her charming face is in its fpring decay'd,
Pale grow the roses, and the lilies fade;
Her skin has loft that luftre which furpafs'd
The fun's, and well deferv'd as long to laft:
Her eyes, which us'd to pierce the hardest hearts,
Are now difarm'd of all their flames and darts;
Those stars now heavily and flowly move;
And fickness triumphs in the throne of love.
The fever every moment more prevails,
Its rage her body feels,

She, whofe disdain fo

and tongue bewails :

many lovers prove,

Sighs now for torment, as they figh for love,

And with loud cries, which rend the neighbouring air,
Wounds my fad heart, and weakens my despair.

Both men and gods I charge now with my lofs,
And, wild with grief, my thoughts each other crofs,
My heart and tongue labour in both extremes,
This fends up humble prayers, while that blasphemes:
C

I ask

I afk their help, whofe malice I defy,

And mingle facrilege with piety.

But, that which must yet more perplex my mind,
To love her truly, I muft feem unkind :
So unconcern'd a face my forrow wears,
I must restrain unruly floods of tears.

My eyes and tongue put on dissembling forms,
I fhew a calmnefs in the midft of storms;
I feem to hope when all my hopes are gone,
And, almost dead with grief, discover none.
But who can long deceive a loving eye,
Or with dry eyes behold his mistress die ?
When paffion had with all its teriors brought
Th' approaching danger nearer to my thought,
Off on a fudden fell the forc'd difguife,
And fhew'd a fighing heart in weeping eyes:
My apprehenfions, now no more confin'd,
Expos'd my forrows, and betray'd my mind.
The fair afflicted foon perceives my tears,
Explains my fighs, and thence concludes my
With fad prefages of her hopeless case,
She reads her fate in my dejected face;
Then feels my torment, and neglects her own,
While I am fenfible of hers alone;

fears:

Each does the other's burthen kindly bear,
I fear her death, and fhe bewails my fear:
Though thus we fuffer under Fortune's darts,
'Tis only those of love which reach our hearts.
Meanwhile the fever mocks at all our fears,
Grows by our fighs, and rages at our tears:

Thofe

Thofe vain effects of our as vain defire,

Like wind and oil, increase the fatal fire.

Almeria then, feeling the deftinies
About to fhut her lips, and clofe her eyes;

Weeping, in mine, fix'd her fair trembling hand,
And with thefe words I fcarce could understand,
Her paffion in a dying voice exprefs'd

Half, and her fighs, alas! made out the rest.

'Tis past; this pang --- Nature gives o'er the ftrife; Thou must thy miftrefs lofe, and I my life.

I die; but, dying thine, the fates may prove
Their conqueft over me, but not my love:
Thy memory, my glory, and my pain,
In fpite of death itself shall still remain.
Dearest Orontes, my hard fate denies,

That hope is the last thing which in us diès :

From my griev'd breast all those soft thoughts are fled,
And love furvives it though my hope is dead;

I yield my life, but keep my paffion yet,
And can all thoughts, but of Orontes, quit.

My flame increases as my strength decays;

Death, which puts out the light, the heat will raife:
That still remains, though I from hence remove;
I lofe my lover, but I keep my love.

The fighs which fent forth that last tender word,'
Up tow'rds the heavens like a bright meteor foar'd ;
And the kind nymph, not yet bereft of charms,
Fell cold and breathlefs in her lover's arms.

Goddefs, who now my fate haft understood,
Spare but my tears, and freely take my
blood:
C 2

Here