But hand in hand around me move,
Singing the saddest tales of love;
And see, when your complaints ye join,
If all your wrongs can equal mine.
The happiest mortal once was I,
My heart no sorrow knew;
Pity the pain with which I die,
But ask not whence it grew;
Yet if a tempting fair you find,
That's very lovely, very kind,
Though bright as heav'n whose stamp she bears,
Think on my fate and shun her snares.
The danger is over, the battle is past,
The nymph had her fears but she ventur'd at last;
She try'd the encounter, and when it was done,
She smil❜d at her folly, and own'd she had won.
By her eyes we discover the bride has pleas'd,
Her blushes become her, her passion is eas'd;
She dissembles her joy and affects to look down;
If she sighs-'tis for sorrow 'tis ended so soon.
Appear all you virgins, both aged and young,
All you, who have carried that burden too long,
Who have lost precious time, and you who are losing
Betray'd by your fears between doubting and chusing,
Draw nearer, and learn what will settle your mind; You'll find yourselves happy when once you are kind. Do but wisely resolve the sweet venture to run You'll feel the loss little and much to be won.
[In the Fatal Marriage, &c.]
A LASS THERE LIVES UPON THE GREEN.
A lass there lives upon the green
Could I her picture draw;
A brighter nymph was never seen,
That looks and reigns a little queen,
And keeps the swains in awe.
Her eyes are Cupid's dart and wings,
Her eyebrows are his bow;
Her silken hair the silver strings
Which sure and swift destruction brings
To all the vale below.
If Pastorella's dawning light
Can warm, and wound us so :
Her noon will shine so piercing bright,
Each glaucing beam will kill outright
And every swain subdue.
[In Southerne's "Oroonoko," 1699, said there to be written by Sir Harry Sheers.]
Bright Cynthia's power divinely great,
What heart is not obeying?
A thousand Cupids on her wait
And in her eyes are playing.
She seems the queen of love to reign
For she alone dispenses
Such sweets, as best can entertain
The guest of all the senses.
Her face a charming prospect brings;
Her breath gives balmy blisses :
I hear an angel when she sings,
And taste of Heaven in kisses.
Four senses thus she feasts with joy,
From Nature's richest treasure:
Let me the other sense employ
And I shall die with pleasure.
[In Southerne's "Oroonoko."]
In vain you tell your parting lover-
You wish fair winds may waft him over :
Alas! what winds can happy prove,
That bear me far from what I love?
Can equal those that I sustain,
From slighted vows and cold disdain ?
Be gentle, and in pity choose
To wish the wildest tempests loose,
That, thrown again upon the coast
Where first my ship-wreck'd heart was lost,
I may once more repeat my pain;
Once more in dying notes complain
Of slighted vows and cold disdain.
IF WINE AND MUSIC HAVE THE POWER.
If wine and music have the power
To ease the sickness of the soul,
Let Phoebus every string explore,
And Bacchus fill the sprightly bowl:
Let them their friendly aid employ
To make my Chloe's absence light,
And seek for pleasure to destroy
The sorrows of this live long night.
But she to-morrow will return :
Venus, be thou to-morrow great;
Thy myrtles strew, thy odours burn,
And meet thy favourite nymph in state.
Kind goddess, to no other powers
Let us to-morrow's blessings own,
Thy darling Love shall guide the hours,
And all the day be thine alone.
Let perjur'd, fair Amynta know
What for her sake I undergo;
Tell her, for her how I sustain
A lingering fever's wasting pain;
Tell her the torments I endure,
Which only, only she can cure.
But, oh! she scorns to hear or see
The wretch that lies so low as me;
Her sudden greatness turns her brain,
And Strephon hopes, alas! in vain!
For ne'er 'twas found (though often tried)
That Pity ever dwelt with Pride.
|