O fpare me; nor my hapless love upbraid,
While on my heart Death's frozen hand is laid!
Go, feek her, guide her where Cleanthes bled;
When the furveys her lover pale and dead,
Tell her, that, fince the fled my hateful fight,
Without remorse I fought the realms of night.
Methinks I fee her view these poor remains,
And on her cheek indecent gladness reigns!
Full in her prefence cold Cleanthes lies,
And not one tear ftands trembling in her eyes!
O let a figh my hapless fate deplore!
Cleanthes now controls thy love no more.
How fhall my lids confine these rising woes?
O might I fee her, ere Death's finger close
Thefe eyes for ever! might her foften'd breast
Forgive my love with too much ardor prest!
Then I with peace could yield my latest breath.
Shall I not calm the fable hour of death,
And fhew myself before him!
See from his trembling lip the fpirit flies!
Stay yet awhile. Dione ftands confeft.
He knows me not. He faints, he finks to reft.
Tell her, fince all my hopes in her were loft,
What fudden gufts of grief my bosom rend!
A parent's curfes o'er my head impend,
For difobedient vows; O wretched maid,
Those very vows Evander hath betray'd.
See, at thy feet Cleanthes bath'd in blood!
For love of thee he trod this lonely wood;
Thou art the cruel authorefs of his fate;
He falls by thine; thou, by Evander's hate.
When shall my foul know reft? Cleanthes flain-
No longer fighs and weeps for thy disdain.
Thou ftill art curft with love. Bleed, virgin, bleed.
How fhall a wretch from anxious life be freed!
My troubled brain with fudden frenzy burns,
And shatter'd thought now this, now that
What do I fee thus glittering on the plains?
Ha! the dread fword yet warm with crimfon ftains!
[Takes up the dagger.
Sweet is the walk when night has cool'd the hour.
This path directs me to my fylvan bower.
Why is my foul with fudden fear dismay'd?
Why drops my trembling hand the pointed blade?
Oftring my arm with force!
Broke through the filent air, like human voice. [Afide.
One well-aim'd blow fhall all my pangs remove,
Grafp firm the fatal steel, and ceafe to love.
Sure 'twas Alexis. Ha a fword display'd!
The ftreaming luftre darts acrofs the shade.
May Heaven new vigour to my foul impart,
And guide the defperate weapon to my heart! [Ahde.
May I the meditated death arreft! [Holds Dione's band.
Strike not, rafh fhepherd; fpare thy guiltlefs breast.
O give me ftrength to stay the threaten'd harm,
And wrench the dagger from his lifted arm !
What cruel hand with-holds the welcome blow?
In giving life, you but prolong my woe.
O may not thus th' expected stroke impend!
Unloofe thy grafp, and let fwift death defcend.
But if yon' murder thy red hands hath dy'd;
Here. Pierce me deep; let forth the vital tide.
[Dione quits the dagger.
Wait not thy fate; but this way turn thy eyes:
My virgin hand no purple murder dyes.
Turn then, Alexis; and Parthenia know, "Tis the protects thee from the fatal blow,
Muft the night-watches by my fighs be told?
And must thefe eyes another morn behold
Through dazling floods of tears? Ungenerous mail,
The friendly ftroke is by thy hand delay'd;
Call it not mercy to prolong my breath;
'Tis but to torture me with lingering death.
What moves thy hand to act this bloody part?
Whence are thefe gnawing pangs that tear thy heart 》
Is that thy friend who lies before thee flain ?
Is it his wound that reeks upon the plain?
Ere chilly death his frozen tongue had bound,
He faid; "As at the rofy dawn of day,
He from the city took his vagrant way,
A murdering band pour'd on him from the wood,
First feiz'd his gold, then bath'd their fwords in blood."
You, whofe ambition labours to be great,
Think on the perils which on riches wait.
Safe are the fhepherd's paths; when fober Even
Streaks with pale light the bending arch of Heaven,
From danger free, through deferts wild he hies,
The rifing smoke far o'er the mountain spies,
Which marks his diftant cottage; on he fares,
For him no murderers lay their nightly snares;
They pass him by, they turn their steps away:
Safe Poverty was ne'er the villain's prey.
At home he lies fecure in eafy fleep,
No bars his ivy-mantled cottage keep;
No thieves in dreams the fancy'd dagger hold,
And drag him to detect the buried gold;
Nor ftarts he from his couch aghast and pale,
When the door murmurs with the hollow gale.
While he, whofe iron coffers ruft with wealth,
Harbours beneath his roof Deceit and Stealth;
Treachery with lurking pace frequents his walks,
And close behind him horrid Murder stalks.
'Tis tempting lucre makes the villain bold:
There lies a bleeding facrifice to gold.
To live, is but to wake to daily cares,
And journey through a tedious vale of tears.
Had you not rush'd between, my life had flown;
And I, like him, no more had forrow known.
When anguish in the gloomy bofom dwells,
The counsel of a friend the cloud difpels.
Give thy breaft vent, the fecret grief impart,
And fay what woe lies heavy at thy heart.
To fave thy life, kind Heaven has fuccour fent,
The gods by me thy threaten'd fate prevent.
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