Should a king be my rival in her I adore, Let Phyllis be mine, and but ever be kind, Alas! I discover too much of my love, And she too well knows her own power! She makes me each day a new martyrdom prove, And makes me grow jealous each hour: But let her each minute torment my poor mind, I had rather love Phyllis, both false and unkind, Than ever be freed from her power. II. HE. How unhappy a lover am I, While I sigh for my Phyllis in vain : All my hopes of delight Are another man's right, Who is happy, while I am in pain! SHE. Since her honour allows no relief, But to pity the pains which you "Tis the best of your fate, In a hopeless estate, bear, To give o'er, and betimes to despair. HE. I have tried the false medicine in vain ; For I wish what I hope not to win : From without, my desire Has no food to its fire; But it burns and consumes me within. SHE. Yet, at least, 'tis a pleasure to know Is as wretched, and more; And counts all your sufferings her own. HE. O ye gods, let me suffer for both; And take pleasure in death, To be pitied by her when I die. SHE. What her honour denied you in life, In her death she will give to your love. After fate will renew, For the souls to meet closer above. SONG OF THE SEA-FIGHT, IN "AMBOYNA.” WHO ever saw a noble sight, That never view'd a brave sea-fight ! Hang up your bloody colours in the air, Up with your fights, and your nettings prepare ; The shouting Turks reply. Oh, now it begins, and the gun-room grows hot, Hark, does it not thunder? no, 'tis the guns roar, The neighbouring billows are turn'd into gore ; Drums and trumpets toll the knell, Now, now they grapple, and now board amain; XV. INCANTATION IN "EDIPUS." TIR. CHOOSE the darkest part o' th' grove, Such as ghosts at noonday love. ALL PR. 'Tis done. TIR. Is the sacrifice made fit? Cut the curl'd hair that grows Full betwixt her horns and brows: ALL PR. 'Tis done. TIR. Pour in blood, and blood-like wine, Feast the ghosts that love the steam: XVI. SONGS IN "ALBION AND ALBANIUS." .I. CEASE, Augusta! cease thy mourning, Happy days appear, Godlike Albion is returning, Loyal hearts to cheer! Every grace his youth adorning, II ALBION, by the nymph attended, Peace and plenty spread the sails; Crowds of people swarm'd around; III. INFERNAL offspring of the Night,. Our work t' embroil the worlds above, And blast the beauteous frame of our victorious foe. IV. SEE the god of seas attends thee, |