« AnteriorContinuar »
THE REC O V E R Y.
IGHING and languishing I lay,
I , A stranger grown to all delight, Paffing with tedious thoughts the day,
And with unquiet dreams the night. For
your dear sake, my only care Was how my fatal love to hide; For ever drooping with despair,
Neglecting all the world beside : Till, like some angel from above,
Cornelia came to my relief ; And then I found the joys of love
Can make amends for all the grief. Those pleasing hopes I now pursue
Might fail if you could prove unjuft ; But promises from heaven and you,
Who is so impious to mistrust? Here all my doubts and troubles end,
One tender word my soul assures; Nor am I vain, since I depend
Not on my own desert, but yours.
THE CO N V E R T.
Of all my
DEJECTED, as true converts die,
But yet with fervent thoughts inflam'd, So, fairest! at your feet I lie,
fex's faults asham'á. Too long, alas ! have I abus'd
Love's innocent and sacred flame, And that divinest power have us'd
To laugh at, as an idle name.
But since fo freely I confess
A crime which may your scorn produce, Allow me now to make it less
By any just and fair excuse: I'then did vulgar joys pursue,
Variety was all my bliss ; But ignorant of love and you,
How could I chuse but do amiss ?
If ever now my wandering eyes
Seek out amusements as before ; If e'er I look, but to despise
Such charms, and value yours the more ; May fad remorse, and guilty shame,
Revenge your wrongs on faithless me; And, what I tremble even to name,
May I lose all in losing thee !
THE PICTU R E.
IN IMITATION OF ANACREON.
HOU flatterer of all the fair,
Come with all your skill and care;
With her tempting eyes begin,
Next, draw her forehead; then her nose,
Teeth fo bright, and breath so sweet,
But so pure a white and red,
In her looks, and in her mien,
Then her neck, and breasts, and hair,
How go on then? Oh! I see
On Don Alonzo's being killed in Portugal, upon
Account of the INFANTA, in the Year 1683.
N such a cause no Muse should fail
To bear a mournful part ; 'Tis just and noble to bewail
The fate of fall'n desert.
In vain ambitious hopes design'd
To make his soul aspire,
To raise a brighter fire.
Amidst fo many dangerous foes
How weak the wisest prove !
And seems agreed with love.
He greatly daring dies;
An empire is the prize.
Τ Η Ε
AFELY perhaps dull crowds admire ;
But I, alas ! am all on fire.