With fympathizing grief let nature mourn,
And never know the youthful spring's return.
And fhall I never more Alexis fee?
Then what is fpring, or grove, or ftream, to me?
Why fport the skipping lambs on yonder plain
Why do the birds their tuneful voices strain ?
Why frisk thofe heifers in the cooling grove?
Their happier life is ignorant of love.
Oh! lead me to fome melancholy cave,
To lull my forrows in a living grave;
From the dark rock where dashing waters fall,.
And creeping ivy hangs the craggy wall;
Where I may wafte in tears my hours away,
And never know the seasons or the day !
Die, die, Panthea-fly this hateful grove;
For what is life without the fwain I love
OW Phoebus rofe, and with his early beams.
Wak'd flumbering Delia from her pleafing dreams
Her wishes by her fancy were fupply'd,
And in her fleep the nuptial knot was ty'd.
With fecret joy fhe faw the morning-ray
Chequer the floor, and through the curtains play;
The happy morn that shall her blifs compleat,
And all her rivals' envious hopes defeat.
In hafte fhe rofe, forgetful of her prayers,
Flew to the glafs, and practis'd o'er her airs :
Her new-fet jewels round her robe are plac'd,.
Some in a brilliant buckle bind her waift,
Some round her neck a circling light difplay,.
Some in her hair diffuse a trembling ray;
The filver knot o'erlooks the Mechlin lace,.
And adds becoming beauties to her face;
Brocaded flowers o'er the gay mantua shine,
And the rich stays her taper fhape confine;
Thus all her drefs exerts a graceful pride,
And sporting Loves furround th' expecting bride;
For Daphnis now attends the blushing maid,
Before the Prieft the folemn vows are paid;
This day, which ends at once all Delia's cares,
Shall fwell a thousand eyes with fecret tears.
Cease, Araminta, 'tis in vain to grieve,
Canft thou from Hymen's bonds the youth retrieve?
Difdain his perjuries, and no longer mourn:
Recall my love, and find a fure return.
But ftill the wretched maid no comfort knows,
And with refentment cherishes her woes;
Alone fhe pines, and, in these mournful strains,
Of Daphnis' vows, and her own fate complains:
Was it for this I fparkled at the Play,
And loiter'd in the Ring whole hours away?
When if thy chariot in the circle fhone,
Our mutual paffion by our looks was known:
Through the gay crowd my watchful glances flew,
Where'er I pafs, thy grateful eyes pursue.
"Ah, faithlefs youth! too well you faw my pain; "For eyes the language of the foul explain."
Think, Daphnis, think that fearce five days are fled, Since (O falfe tongue!) thofe treacherous things you faid; How did you praise my fhape and graceful air! And woman thinks all compliments fincere.. Didft thou not then in rapture speak thy flame, And in foft fighs breathe Araminta's name ? Didst thou not then with oaths thy paffion prove, And with an awful trembling, fay—I love ? "Ah, faithlefs youth! too well you faw my pain; the language of the foul explain.”
eyes How could't thou thus, ungrateful youth, deceive? How could I thus, unguarded maid, believe?
Sure thou canft well recall that fatal night, en fubtle love firft enter'd at my fight:
When in the dance I was thy partner chofe,
Gods! what a rapture in my bofom rofe!
My trembling hand my fudden joy confefs'd,
My glowing cheeks a wounded heart exprefs'd;
My looks spoke love; while you, with answering eyes, In killing glances made as kind replies.
Think, Daphnis, think, what tender things you said,
Think what confufion all my foul betray'd.
You call'd my graceful presence Cynthia's air;
And, when I fung, the Syrens charm'd your ear;
My flame, blown up by flattery, ftronger grew;
A gale of love in every whisper flew.
"Ah, faithlefs youth! too well you saw my pain;
"For eyes the language of the foul explain."
Whene'er I drefs'd, my maid, who knew my flame,
Cherish'd my paffion with thy lovely name;
Thy picture in her talk fo lively grew,
That thy dear image rose before my view ;
She dwelt whole hours upon thy fhape and mien,
And wounded Delia's fame, to footh my fpleen:
When the beheld me at the name grow pale,
Straight to thy charms fhe chang'd her artful tale;
And, when thy matchlefs charms were quite run o'erį
I bid her tell the pleafing tale once more.
Oh, Daphnis from thy Araminta fled!
Oh, to my love for ever, ever dead!
Like death, his nuptials all my hope remove,
And ever part me from the man I love.
"Ah, faithless youth! too well you faw my pain; For eyes the language of the foul explain.”
O might I by my cruel fate be thrown,
In fome retreat far from this hateful town!
Vain dress and glaring equipage, adieu!
Let happier nymphs those empty shows pursue.
Me let fome melancholy fhade furround,
Where not the print of human ftep is found.
In the
gay dance my
feet no more fhall move,
But bear me faintly through the lonely grove.
No more these hands fhall o'er the fpinnet bound,
And from the fleeping ftrings call forth the found:
Mufic, adieu! farewell, Italian airs!
The croaking raven now shall footh my cares.
On fome old ruin, lost in thought, I rest,
And think how Araminta once was bleft;
"There o'er and o'er thy letters I perufe,
And all my grief in one kind fentence lofe:
Some tender line by chance my woe beguiles,
And on my cheek a short-liv'd pleasure smiles.
Why is this dawn of joy flow, tears, again!
Vain are these oaths, and all these vows are vain;
Daphnis, alas! the Gordian knot has ty'd;
Nor force nor cunning can the band divide.
“Ah, faithless youth! fince eyes the foul explain, "Why knew I not that artful tongue could feign?"
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