Cease the neat labours of my hand to know;
Il fuits the care of elegance with woe!
Why did not Nature, when she gave to charm,
With unrelenting pride my bofom arm?
Why was my foul its tender pity taught,
Each foft affection, and each gen'rous thought?
Hence fpring my forrows, hence with fighs I prove,
How feeble woman, and how fierce is love.
In unavailing ftreams my tears are shed;
Sad Laura's blifs is with Lorenzo fled.
For thee, falfe youth, was ev'ry joy resign'd,
Young health, fweet peace, and innocence of mind;
Are these the conftant vows thy tongue profeft,
When first thy arms my yielding beauties preft?
Thus did thy kifs difpel my empty fears?
Or winning voice delight my raptur'd ears?
Thus fwore thy lips by ocean, earth, and sky;
By hell's dread pow'rs, and heav'ns all-piercing eye ?
Yawns not the grave for thee? why sleeps the storm
To blast thy limbs, and rend thy perjur'd form?
Unmov'd, O faithlefs, canft thou hear my pain,
Like the proud rocks which brave th' unwearied main ?
Sooner the fhipwreck'd pilot fhall appease
With fighs the howling winds, with tears the feas,
Than Laura's pray'rs thy heart unfeeling move,
O loft to fame, to honour, and to love!
Nurft in dark caverns on fome mountain wild
To cruel manhood grew the darling child,
No female breast supplied thy infant food,
But tygers growling o'er their favage brood.
Curs'd be that fatal hour thy charms were feen,
While yet this mind was guiltless, and ferene.
With thee, falfe man, I urg'd my hafty flight,
And dar'd the horrors of tempeftuous night;
Nor fear'd, with thee, through plains unknown to rove,
Deaf to the dictates of paternal love.
In vain for me a parent's tears were shed,
And to the grave defcends his hoary head.
When at my
feet entranc'd my lover lay,
And pour'd in tender fighs his foul away,
Fond, foolish heart! to think the tale divine!
Why started not my hands when preft in thine?
Too well rememb'rance paints the fatal hour
When love, great conqueror, fummon'd all his pow'r ;
When bolder grown, your glances flafh'd with fire,
And your pale lips all trembled with defire;
Back to my heart my blood tumultuous flew,
From ev'ry pore diftill'd the chilling dew,
When fhame prefaging spoke each future pain,
And ftruggling virtue arm'd my foul in vain.
But O! let filence all my weakness veil,
And burning blushes only tell the tale.
Ah, faithlefs man! and thou more wretched maid,
To guilt, and grief, and mifery betray'd!
Far flies thy lover to fame diftant plain;
Now cleaves his bounding bark the peaceful main;
Avenging heaven, that heard the vows he swore,
Bid howl the black'ning ftorm, and thunder roar,
Till waves on waves in tumbling mountains roll,
Now fink to hell, and now afcend the pole;
Then on some plank o’er foaming billows borne,
Trembling, his perjur'd faith the wretch shall mourn,
But mourn in vain : his vig'rous arm shall fail,
Guilt sink him down, and angry. heaven prevail ;
No friendly hand to earth his limbs convey,
But dogs and vultures tear the bloated prey.
Yet, ah! fond heart ! avert, kind heav'n, the stroke,
My heart denies what trembling lips have fpoke.
The varying accents real nature prove,
And only shew how wild a thing is love.
Go, much lov'd youth, with ev'ry blefling crown'a,
And Laura's wishes ever guard thee round.
Me to the filent shades and fad retreat,
Where love's expiring flames forget their heat,
Death wooes all-powerful: ere he parts the clew,
Once more thy Laura bids her love adieu :
Bids health and afluence every bliss afford;
Bids thee be lov'd, be happy, and ador'd;
In case, in mirth glide each glad hour away:
No pain to spot thy fortune's cloudless day;
Nor figh to swell, no tear to flow for me :
O grant heav'n-all; but grant thee constancy.
hand this last address receive,
This last address is all that hand can give.
In vain thy bark with spreading canvas flies,
If these fad lines shall meet thy conscious eyes,
And, taught with winning eloquence to move,
The winds and waters waft the voice of love;
That voice, O grant what dying lips implore,
Alks but one tear from thee; and aks no more.
Then
Then, world, farewel; farewel life's fond defires,
Falfe flatt'ring hopes, and love's tormenting fires.
Already, death, before my clofing eyes
Thy airy forms and glimm'ring shades arise.
Hark! hear I not for me yon' paffing bell
Toll forth, with frequent paufe, its fullen knell?
Waits not for me yon' fexton on his spade,
Blythe whistling o'er the grave his toil has made?
Say, why in lengthen'd pomp yon' fable train,
With measur'd steps, flow stalk along the plain?
Say, why yon' hearfe with fading flow'rs is crown'd,
And midnight gales the deep-mouth'd dirge refound?
Hail, fifter worms, and thou my kindred duft,
Secure to you, my weary limbs I trust.
Dim burns life's lamp; O Death! thy work complete,
And give my foul to gain her last retreat.
Such as before the birth of nature sway'd,
Ere fpringing light the first great word obey'd,
Let filence reign-come, fate, exert thy might;
And darkness wrap me in eternal night!
RE yet I fing the round-revolving year,
And show the toils and pastime of the swain,
At * Alcon's grave I drop a pious tear;
Right well he knew to raise his learned ftrain,
And, like his Milton, fcorn'd the rhiming chain.
Ah! cruel fate, to tear him from our eyes;
Receive his wreath, albe the tribute's vain,
From the green fod may flowers immortal rife,
To mark the facred fpot where the sweet poet lies.
It is the cuckoo that announceth spring,
And with his † wreakful tale the spouse doth fray
Mean while the finches harmless ditties fing,
And hop, in buxom youth, from spray to spray,
· Proud as Sir Paridel of rich array.
The little wantons that draw Venus' team
Chirp am'rous thro' the grove in beavies gay;
And he, who erft gain'd Leda's fond esteem,
Now fail'd on Thamis' tide, the glory of the stream ]
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