The selfish heart, that but by halves is giv'n, Contenm the little pride of giving pain, And asks no pow'r but that of pleasing most: But lest harsh Care the lover's peace destroy, And roughly blight the tender buds of joy, Let Reason teach what Passion fain would hide, That Hymen's bands by Prudence should be ty'd, Venus in vain the wedded pair would crown, If angry Fortune on their union frown: Soon will the flatt'ring dream of bliss be o'er, And cloy'd imagination cheat no more; Then waking to the sense of lasting pain, With mutual tears the nuptial couch they stain, And that fond love, which should afford relief, Yet may you rather feel that virtuous pain, E'en in the happiest choice, where fav'ring heaven The mistress still shall charm him in the wife! E'en o'er your cold and ever-sacred urn, His constant flame shall unextinguish'd burn. 'Tis thus, Belinda, I your charms improve, And form your heart to all the arts of love; The task were harder to secure my own Against the pow'r of those already known; For well you twist the secret chains that biud With gentle force the captivated mind, Skill'd ev'ry soft attraction to employ, Each flatt'ring hope, and each alluring joy, I own your genius, and from you receive The rules of pleasing, which to you I give. A FAIRY TALE. BY DR. PARNELL. IN Britain's isle and Arthur's days, When Midnight Fairies daunc'd the maze, Edwin, I wis, a gentle youth, Endow'd with courage, sense, and truth, Though badly shap'd he been. His mountain back mote well be said To measure height against his head, Yet spite of all that nature did He felt the charm of Edith's eyes, But one Sir Topaz dress'd with art, Edwin, if right I read my song, 'Twas near an old enchanted court, His heart was drear, his hope was cross'd, 'Twas late, 'twas far, the path was lostThat reach'd the neighbour-town; With weary steps he quits the shades, Resolv'd, the darkling dome he treads, And drops his limbs adown. But scant he lays him on the floor, Now sounding tongues assail his ear, Now sounding feet approachen near, And now the sounds increase: And from the corner where he lay He sees a train profusely gay Come prankling o'er the place. But (trust me gentles!) never yet The country lent the sweet perfumes, Now while he gaz'd, a gallant drest "What mortal of a wretched mind, Has here presum'd to hide?" |