SABINA.

Love, I thy power defy; no second flame Shall ever raze my dear Fidelio's name. Fannia without a tear might lose her lord, Who ne'er enjoy'd his presence but at board. And why should sorrow sit on Lesbia's face? Are there such comforts in a sot's embrace? No friend, no lover, is to Lesbia dead; For Lesbia long had known a separate bed. Gush forth, ye tears; waste, waste, ye sighs, my breast!

My days, my nights, were by Fidelio blest!

LUCY.

You cannot sure forget how oft you said, His teazing fondness jealousy betray'd! When at the play the neighbouring box he took, You thought you read suspicion in his look. When cards and counters flew around the board, Have you not wish'd the absence of your lord? His company was then a poor pretence, To check the freedoms of a wife's expense.

SABINA.

But why should I Myrtillo's passion blame, Since love's a fierce, involuntary flame?

LUCY.

Could he the sallies of his heart withstand, Why should he not to Chloe give his hand? For Chloe's handsome; yet he slights her flame; Last night she fainted at Sabina's name. Why, Daphne, dost thou blame Sabina's charms? Sabina keeps no lover from thy arms. At crimp Myrtillo play'd, in kind regards Doris threw love, unmindful of the cards; Doris was touch'd with spleen; her fan she rent, Flew from the table, and to tears gave vent. Why, Doris, dost thou carse Sabina's eyes? To her Myrtillo is a vulgar prize.

SABINA.

Yet say, I lov'd; how loud would censure rail!
So soon to quit the duties of the veil '
No, sooner plays and operas I'd forswear,
And change these China jars for Tunbridge ware;
Or trust my mother as a confidant,

Or fix a friendship with my maiden-aunt;
Than till-to morrow throw my weeds away.
Yet let me see him, if he comes to-day!

THE ESPOUSAL,

A SOBER ECLOGUE,

BETWEEN TWO OF THE PEOPLE CALLED QUAKERS.

CALEB. TABITHA.

BENEATH the shadow of a beaver hat, Meek Caleb at a silent meeting sat; His eye-balls oft forgot the holy trance, While Tabitha demure retura'd the glance. The meeting ended, Caleb silence broke, And Tabitha ber inward yearnings spoke

CALEB.

Beloved, see how all things follow love; Lamb fondleth lamb, and dove disports with dove; Yet fondled lambs their innocence secure, And none can call the turtle's bill impure

Ah, Tabitha, to hear these words of thine, My pulse beats high, as if inflam'd with wine? When to the brethren first with fervent zeal The spirit mov'd the yearnings to reveal, How did I joy thy trembling lip to see Red as the cherry from the Kentish tree! When ecstasy had warm'd thy look so meek, Gardens of roses blushed on thy cheek! With what sweet transport didst thou roll thine How did thy words provoke the brethren's sighs i Words that with holy sighs might others move, But, Tabitha, my signs were sighs of love.

TABITHA.

[eyes?

Is Tabitha beyond her wishes blest? Does no proud worldly dame divide thy breast?

Then hear me, Caleb, witness what I speak,
This solemn promise death alone can break:
Sooner I would bedeck my brow with lace,
And with immodest favourites shade my face,
Sooner like Babylon's lewd whore be drest
In flaring diamonds and a searlet vest,
Or make a curtsie in cathedral pew,
Than prove inconstant, while my Caleb's true.

CALEB.

When I prove false, and Tabitha forsake, Teachers shall dance a jig at country-wake; Brethren unbeaver'd then shall bow their head, And with prophaue mince-pies our babes be fed.

TABITHA.

If that Josiah were with passion fir'd, Warm as the zeal of youth when first inspir'd; In steady love though he might persevere, Unchanging as the decent garb we wear, And thou wert fickle as the wind that blows, Light as the feather on the head of beaux; Yet I for thee would all thy sex resign: Sisters, take all the rest-be Caleb mine.

CALEB.

Though I had all that sinful love affords,
And all the concubines of all the lords,
Whose couches creak with whoredom's sinful shame,
Whose velvet chairs are with adultery laine;
Ev'n in the harlot's hall, I would not sip
The dew of lewdness from her lying lip;
I'd shun her paths, upon thy mouth to dwell,
More sweet than powder which the merchants sell.
O solace me with kisses pure like thine!
Enjoy, ye lords, the wanton concubine.

The Spring now calls us forth; come, sister, come,
To see the primrose and the daisy bloom.
Let Ceremony bind the worldly pair;
Sisters esteem the brethren's words sincere.

. TABITHA.

Espousals are but forms. O lead me hence, For secret love can never give offence.

Then hand in hand the loving mates withdraw: True love is nature unrestrain'd by law. This tenet all the holy sect allows; So Tabitha took earnest of a spouse.

ELEGIES.

PANTHEA.

LONG had Panthea felt Love's secret smart,
And hope and fear alternate rul'd her heart;
Consenting glances had her flame confest:
In woman's eyes her very soul's exprest.
Perjur'd Alexis saw the blushing maid,

He saw,
he swore, he conquer'd, and betray'd.
Another love now calls him from her arms,
His fickle heart another beauty warms;
Those oaths, oft whisper'd in Panthea's ears,
He now again to Galatea swears.

Beneath a beech th' abandon'd virgin laid,
In grateful solitude enjoys the shade; [strains,
There with faint,voice she breath'd these moving
While sighing Zephyrs shar'd her amorous pains.

"Pale settled sorrow hangs upon my brow, Dead are my charms; Alexis breaks his vow! Think, think, dear shepherd, on the days you knew, When I was happy, when my swain was true; Think how thy looks and tongue are form'd to

move;

And think yet more-that all my fault was love.
Ah! could you view me in this wretched state,
You might not love me, but you could not hate.
Could you behold me in this conscious shade,
Where first thy vows, where first my love was paid,
Worn out with watching, sullen with despair,
And see each eye swell with a g shing tear;
Could you behold me on this mossy bed,
From my pale check the lively crimson fled,
Which in my softer hours you oft have sworn,
With rosy beauty far outblush'd the Morn
Could you untouch'd this wretched object bear,
And would not lost Panthea claim a tear?
You could not, sure-tears from your eyes would
steal,

And unawares thy tender soul reveal.
Ah, no! thy soul with cruelty is fraught,
No tenderness disturbs thy savage thought;
Sooner shall tigers spare the trembling lambs,
And wolves with pity hear their bleating dams;
Sooner shall vultures from their quarry fly;
Than false Alexis for Panthea sigh !

Thy bosom ne'er a tender thought confest,
Sure stubborn flint has arm'd thy cruel breast!
But hardest flints are worn by frequent rains,
And the soft drops dissolve their solid veins ;
While thy relentless heart more hard appears,
And is not soften'd by a flood of tears.

"Ah, what is love! Panthea's joys are gone,
Her liberty, her peace, her reason, flown!
And when I view me in the watery glass,
I find Panthea now, not what she was.
As northern winds the new-blown roses blast,
And on the ground their fading ruins cast;
As sudden blights corrupt the ripen'd grain,
And of its verdure spoil the mournful plain;
So hapless love on blooming features preys,
So hapless love destroys our peaceful days.

"Come, gentle Sleep, relieve these weary'd eyes,
All sorrow in thy soft embraces dies:
There, spite of all thy perjur'd vows, I find
Faithless Alexis languishingly kind:
Sometimes he leads me by the mazy stream,
And pleasingly deludes me in my dream ;
Sometimes he guides me to the secret grove,
Where all our looks, and all our talk, is love.
Oh! could I thus consume each tedious day,
And in sweet slumbers dream my life away!
But sleep, which now no more relieves these eyes,
To my sad soul the dear deceit denies.

"Why does the Sun dart forth its cheerful rays? Why do the woods resound with warbling lays? Why does the rose her grateful fragrance yield, And yellow cowslips paint the smiling fiel1? Why do the streams with murmuring music flow, And why do groves their friendly shade bestow? Let sable clouds the cheerful Sun deface, Let mournful s lence seize the feather'd race; No more, yé roses, grateful fragrance yield, Droop, droop, ye cowslips, in the blast d field; No more, ye streams, with murmuring music flow, And let not groves a friendly shade bestow: With sympathizing grief lot Nature mourn, And never know the youthful Spring's return.

And shall I never more Alexis see?
Then what is spring, or grove, or stream, to me?
"Why sport the skipping lambs on yonder plain?
Why do the birds their tuneful voices strain?
Why frisk those heifers in the cooling grove?
Their happier life is ignorant of love.

"Oh! lead me to some melancholy cave,
To lull my sorrows in a living grave;
From the dark rock, where dashing waters fall,
And creeping ivy hangs the craggy wall;
Where I may waste 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 swain I love?"

ARAMINTA.

AN ELEGY.

Now Phoebus rose, and with his early beams Wak'd slumbering Delia from her pleasing dreams; Her wishes by her fan y were supply'd, And in her sleep the nuptial knot was ty'd. With secret joy she saw the morning ray Chequer the floor, and through the curtains play; The happy morn that shall her bliss complete, And all her rivals' envious hopes defeat. In haste she rose, forgetful of her prayers, Flew to the glass, and practis'd o'er her airs: Her new-set jewels round her robe are plac'd, Some in a brilliant buckle bind her waist, Som round her neck a circling light display, Some in her hair diffus a trembling ray; The silver 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 shape confine; Thus all her dress exerts a graceful pride, And sporting Loves surround th' expecting bride; For Daphnis now attends the blushing maid, Before the priest the solemn vows are paid; This day, which ends at once all Delia's cares, Shall swell a thousand eyes with secret tears. "Cease, Araminta, 'tis in vain to grieve, Canst thou from Hymen's bon is the youth retrieve? Disdain his perjuries, and no longer mourn: Recall my love, and find a sure return."

But still the wretched maid no comfort knows, And with resentment cherishes her woes; Alone she pines, and, in these mournful strains, Of Daphnis' vows, and her own fate, complains: "Was it for this I sparkled at the play, And loiter'd in the ring whole hours away? When if thy chariot in the circle shone, Our mutual passion by our looks was known: Through the gay crowd my watchful glances flew, Where'er I pass, thy grateful eyes pursue. "Ah, faithless youth! too well you saw my pain; For eyes the language of the soul explain.

"Think, Daphnis, think, that scarce five days are fled, [you said; Since ( false tongue!) those treacherous things How did you praise my shape and graceful air! And woman thinks all compliments sincere. Didst thou not then in rapture speak thy flame, And in soft sighs breathe Araminta's name? Didst thou not then with oaths thy passion prove, And, with an awful trembling, say—' I love?'

"Ah, faithless youth! too well you saw my pain For eyes the language of the soul explain. "How could'st thou thus, ungrateful youth, deceive?

How could I thus, unguarded maid, believe?
Sure thou canst well recall that fatal night,
When subtle love first enter'd at my sight:
When in the dance I was thy partner chose,
Gods! what a rapture in my bosom rose!
My trembling hand my sudden joy confess'd,
My glowing cheeks a wounded heart express'd;
My looks spoke love; while you, with answering
In killing glances made as kind replies. [eyes,
Think, Daphnis, think, what tender things you said,
Think what confusion all my soul betray'd.
You call'd my graceful presence Cynthia's air;
And, when I sung, the Syrens charm'd your ear:
My flame, blown up by flattery, stronger grew;
A gale of love in every whisper flew.

66

Ah, faithless youth! too well you saw my pain; For eyes the language of the soul explain.

"Whene'er I dress'd, my maid, who knew my

flame,

Cherish'd my passion with thy lovely name;
Thy picture in her talk so lively grew,
That thy dear image rose before my view;
She dwelt whole hours upon thy shape and mien,
And wounded Delia's fame, to soothe my spleen:
When she beheld me at the name grow pale,
Straight to thy charms she chang'd her artful tale;
And, when thy matchless charms were quite run
I bid her tell the pleasing 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 saw my pain;
For eyes the language of the soul explain.

[o'er,

"O might I by my cruel fate be thrown In some retreat, far from this hateful town! Vain dress and glaring equipage, adieu! Let happier nymphs those empty shows pursue. Me let some melancholy shade surround, Where not the print of human step is found. In the gay dance my feet no more shall move, But bear me faintly through the lonely grove. No more these hands shall o'er the spinnet bound, And from the sleeping strings call forth the sound: Music, adieu! farewell, Italian airs! The croaking raven now shall soothe my cares. On some old ruin, lost in thought, I rest, And think how Araminta once was blest; There o'er and o'er thy letters I peruse, And all my grief in one kind sentence lose: 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! since eyes the soul explain, Why knew I not that artful tongue could feign?”

AN

ELEGY ON A LAP-DOG.

SHOCK's fate I mourn! poor Shock is now no more! Ye Muses, mourn! ye chambermaids, deplore!

THE LADY'S LAMENTATION.

A BALLAD.

PHYLLIDA, that lov'd to dream
In the grove, or by the stream;

Sigh'd on velvet pillow.

What, alas! should fill her head,
But a fountain, or a mead,
Water and a willow?

"Love in cities never dwells,
He delights in rural cells

Which sweet woodbine covers. What are your assemblies then? There, 'tis true, we see more men ; But much fewer lovers.

"Oh, how chang'd the prospect grows! Flocks and herds to fops and beaux,

Coxcombs without number!
Moon and stars that shone so bright,
To the torch and waxen light,

And whole nights at ombre. "Pleasant as it is, to hear Scandal tickling in our ear,

Ev'n of our own mothers;
In the chit-chat of the day,
To us is pay'd, when we're away,
What we lent to others.

"Though the favourite toast I reign; Wine, they say, that prompts the vain, Heightens defamation.

Must I live 'twixt spite and fear,
Every day grow handsomer,

And lose my reputation?"

Thus the fair to sighs gave way,
Her empty purse beside her lay.

Nymph, ah! cease thy sorrow.
Though curst Fortune frown to night,
This odious town can give delight,
If you win to morrow.

DAMON AND CUPID.

A SONG.

THE Sun was now withdrawn,
The shepherds home were sped;
The Moon wide o'er the lawn

Her silver mantle spread ;
When Damon stay'd behind,

And saunter'd in the grove. "Will ne'er a nymph be kind, And give me love for love? "Oh! those were golden hours, When Love, devoid of cares,

In all Arcadia's bowers

Lodg'd swains and nymphs by pairs; But now from wood and plain Flies every sprightly lass;

No joys for me remain,

In shades, or on the grass." The winged boy draws near; And thus the swain reproves : "While Beauty revel'd here, My game lay in the groves;

"Why ring the woods with warbling throats? Ye larks, ye linnets, cease your strains; I faintly hear in your sweet notes

My Chloe's voice that wakes my pains: Yet why should you your song forbear? Your mates delight your song to hear; But Chloe mine disdains."

As thus he melancholy stood,

Dejected as the lonely dove,

Sweet sounds broke gently through the wood. "I feel the sound; my heart-strings move. 'Twas not the nightingale that sung; No. 'Tis my Chloe's sweeter tongue. Hark, hark, what says my love?" "How foolish is the nymph," (she cries) "Who trifles with her lovers's pain! Nature still speaks in woman's eyes,

Our artful lips were made to feign.
O Daphnis, Daphnis, 'twas my pride,
'Twas not my heart thy love deny'd;
Come back, dear youth, again.
"As t'other day my hand he seiz'd,
My blood with thrilling motion flew ;
Sudden I put on looks displeas'd.

And hasty from his hold withdrew.
'Twas fear alone, thou simple'swain;
Then hadst thou prest my hand again,
My heart had yielded too!

""Tis true, thy tuneful reed I blam'd,
That swell'd thy lip and rosy cheek;
Think not thy skill in song defam'd,

That lip should other pleasures seek:
Much, much thy music I approve;
Yet break thy pipe, for more I love,

Much more to hear thee speak.
"My heart forbodes that I'm betray'd,
Daphnis, I fear, is ever gone;
Last night with Delia's dog he play'd,

Love by such trifles first comes on.
Now, now, dear shepherd, come away,
My tongue would now my heart obey.
Ah, Chloe, thou art won!"