The VISION.
Written during a Sea Voyage, when fent to command the Forces for the Relief of Tangier.
Ithin the filent Shades of foft Repose,
Where Fancy's boundless Stream for ever.
Where the enfranchis'd Soul at cafe can play,
Tir'd with the toil fome Bufinefs of the Day,
Where Princes gladly reft their weary Heads,
And change uncafy Thrones for downy Beds;
Where feeming Joys delude despairing Minds,
And where ev'n Jealoufy fome Quiet finds';
There I and Sorrow for a while could part,
Sleep clos'd my Eyes, and cas'd a fighing Heart.
But here too foon a wretched Lover found
In deepest Griefs the Sleep can ne'er be found ;
With ftrange Surprize my troubled Fancy brings
Odd antick Shapes of wild unheard-of things;
Difmal and terrible they all appear,
My Soul was shook with an unusual Fear.
But as when Vifions glad the Eyes of Saints,
And kind Relief attends devout Complaints,
Some beauteous Angel in bright Charms will shine,
And spreads a Glory round, that's all divine;
Juft fuch a bright and beauteous Form appears,
The Monsters vanifh, and with them my Fears.
The fairest Shape was then before me brought,
That Eyes c'er faw, or Fancy ever thought;
How weak are Words to fhew fuch Excellence,
Which ev'n confounds the Soul, as well as Senfe!
And, while our Eyes tranfporting Pleasure find,
It stops not here, but ftrikes the very Mind.
Some Angel fpcak her Praife! no human Tongue,
But with its utmoft Art must do her Wrong.
The only Woman that has Pow'r to kill,
And yet is good enough to want the Will;
Who needs no foft alluring Words repeat:
Nor ftudy'd Looks of languifhing Deceit.
Fantastick Beauty, always in the wrong,
Still thinks fome Pride must to its Pow'r belong;
An Air affected and a haughty Mien ;
Something that seems to say, I would be seen.
But of all Womankind this only She
Full of its Charms, and from its Frailty free,
Deferves fome nobler Mufe her Fame to raise,
By making the whole Sex befide, herPyramid of Praise.
She, She appear'd, the Source of all my Joys;
The dearest Care that all my Thought employs:
Gently fhe look'd, as when I left her laft;
When first she seiz'd my Heart, and held it fast;
When, if my Vows, alas! were made too late,
I faw my Doom came not from her, but Fate.
With Pity then she eas'd my raging Pain,
And her kind Eyes could scarce from Tears refrain:
Why gentle Swain, faid fhe, why do you grieve
In Words I should not hear, much lefs believe?
I gaze on that which is a Fault to mind,
And ought to fly the Danger which I find :
Offalfe Mankind tho' you may be the beft,
Ye all have robb'd poor Women of their Rest.
I fee your Pain, and fee it too with Grief,
Because I would, yet muft not give Relief;
Thus, for a Husband's fake, as well as yours,
My fcrup❜lous Soul divided Pain endures;
Guilty, alas, to both; for thus I do
Too much for him, yet not enough for you.
Give over then, give over, hapless Swain,
A Paffion moving, but a Passion vain.
Not Chance, nor Time fhall ever change my Thought, 'Tis better much to die, than do a Fault.
Oh worse than ever! Is it then my Doom
Juft to fee Heav'n, where I must never come?
Your foft Compaffion, if not something more:
Yet I remain as wretched as before:
The Wind indeed is fair, but ah! no Sight of Shore. Farewel, too fcrup'lous Fair-one, oh farewel, What Torments I endure, no Tongue can tell; Thank Heav'n my Fate tranfports me now, where I Your Martyr may with Eafe and Safety die.
With that I kneel'd, and feiz'd her tremblingHand, While fhe impos'd this cruel kind Command: Live and love on; you will be true I know, But live then, and come back to tell me so; For tho' I blush at this last guilty Breath,
I can endure that better than your Death.
Tormenting Kindness! Barbarous Reprieve! Condemn'd to die, and yet compell'd to live!
This tender Scene my Dream repeated o'er,
Juft as it pafs'd in real Truth before.
Methought I then fell grov'ling to the Ground,
Till on a fudden rais'd, I wond'ring found
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