ELEGY, Describing the Sorrow of an ingenuous Mind on the melancholy Event of a licentious Amour. WHY mourns my friend? why weeps his downcast eye? That eye where mirth, where fancy, used to shine; Thy cheerful meads reprove that swelling sigh; Spring ne'er enamell'd fairer meads than thine. Art thou not lodged in Fortune's warm embrace? Wert thou not form'd by Nature's partial care? Bless'd in thy song, and bless'd in every grace That wins the friend, or that enchants the fair! < Damon,' said he, thy partial praise restrain; Not Damon's friendship can my peace restore: Alas! his very praise awakes my pain, And my poor wounded bosom bleeds the more. 'For, O! that Nature on my birth had frown'd, 'But led by Fortune's hand, her darling child, Ah, vices gilded by the rich and gay! I chased the guileless daughters of the plain, Poor artless maid! to stain thy spotless name Sustain❜d by virtue, but betray'd by love. 'School'd in the science of Love's mazy wiles, Then while the fancied rage alarm'd her care, To thee, my Damon, dare I paint the rest? Will yet thy love a candid ear incline? Assured that virtue, by misfortune press'd, Feels not the sharpness of a pang like mine. 'Nine envious moons matured her growing shame, "Henry,' she said, 'by thy dear form subdued, See the sad relics of a nymph undone ! I find, I find this rising sob renew'd; ''Amid the dreary gloom of night I cry, When will the morn's once pleasing scenes return? Yet what can morn's returning ray supply, But foes that triumph, or but friends that mourn! Alas! no more that joyous morn appears, That led the tranquil hours of spotless fame; For I have steep'd a father's couch in tears, And tinged a mother's glowing cheek with shame. "The vocal birds that raise their matin strain, "If through the garden's flowery tribes I stray, Where bloom the jasmines that could once allure, Hope not to find delight in us,' they say, For we are spotless, Jessy; we are pure.' "Ye flowers! that well reproach a nymph so frail, Now the grave old alarm the gentler young, And all my fame's abhorr'd contagion flee; Trembles each lip, and falters every tongue, That bids the morn propitious smile on me. Thus for your sake I shun each human eye, I bid the sweets of blooming youth adieu; To die I languish, but I dread to die, Lest my sad fate should nourish pangs for you. Raise me from earth; the pains of want remove, And let me, silent, seek some friendly shore; There only, banish'd from the form I love, My weeping virtue shall relapse no more. "Be but my friend; I ask no dearer name; Be such the meed of some more artful fair; Nor could it heal my peace or chase my shame, That Pity gave what Love refused to share. "Force not my tongue to ask its scanty bread, Haply, when age has silver'd o'er my hair, Malice may learn to scorn so mean a spoil; Envy may slight a face no longer fair, And Pity welcome to my native soil.'— 'She spoke―nor was I born of savage race; Nor could these hands a niggard boon assign; Grateful she clasp'd me in a last embrace, And vow'd to waste her life in prayers for mine. 'I saw her foot the lofty bark ascend, I saw her breast with every passion heave ;— I left her-torn from every earthly friend; Oh, my hard bosom, which could bear to leave! 'Brief let me be: the fatal storm arose; 'And-see my youth's impetuous fires decay; TO MEMORY. 1748. O MEMORY! celestial maid! Who glean'st the flowerets cropp'd by Time, And, suffering not a leaf to fade, Preservest the blossoms of our prime ; Bring, bring those moments to my mind, When life was new, and Lesbia kind. And bring that garland to my sight With which my favour'd crook she bound, And bring that wreath of roses bright Which then my festive temples crown'd, And to my raptured ear convey The gentle things she deign'd to say. And sketch with care the Muses' bower, That shines on Cherwell's verdant side; The song it 'vails not to recite But, sure, to soothe our youthful dreams, Those banks and streams appear'd more bright Than other banks, than other streams; Or, by thy softening pencil shown, |