No warning of th' approaching flame!
Swiftly, like sudden death, it came!
Like travellers by lightning killed,
I burnt, the moment I beheld!
In whom so many charms are placed,
Is with a mind as nobly graced!
The Case, so shining to behold,
Is filled with richest gems and gold.
To what my eyes admired before,
I add a thousand graces more!
And Fancy blows into a flame
The spark that from her Beauty came!
The object thus improved by thought;
By my own image I am caught!
PYGMALION So, with fatal art,
Polished the Form that stung his heart!
WARNED, and made wise by others' flame;
I fled from whence such mischiefs came.
Shunning the Sex, that kills at sight;
I sought my safety in my flight.
But, ah! in vain, from Fate we fly!
For, first or last, as all must die;
So 'tis as much decreed above,
That, first or last, we all must love!
My heart, which stood so long the shock
Of winds and waves, like some firm rock,
By one bright spark from MYRA thrown,
Is into flames, like powder, blown!
'FOOLISH LOVE! be gone!' said I,
'Vain are thy attempts on me!
Thy soft allurements I defy!
Women, those fair dissemblers, fly!
My heart was never made for thee!'
LOVE heard; and straight prepared a dart.
'MYRA! revenge my cause!' said he.
Too sure 'twas shot! I feel the smart!
It rends my brain, and tears my heart!
'O, Love! my conqu'ror! pity me!'
'I'LL tell her, the next time!' said I,
In vain in vain! for when I try,
Upon my tim'rous tongue the trembling accents die!
Alas! a thousand thousand fears
Still overawe, when she appears! [in tears! My breath is spent in sighs; my eyes are drowned
THYRSIS. DELIA! how long must I despair,
And tax you with disdain?
Still to my tender love severe;
Untouched, when I complain!
DELIA. When men of equal merit love us,
And do with equal ardour sue;
THYRSIS! you know but one must move us!
Can I be yours, and STREPHON'S, too?
My eyes view both with mighty pleasure,
Impartial to your high desert.
To both alike, esteem I measure!.
To one alone, can give my heart!
THYRSIS. Mysterious Guide of Inclination!
Tell me, Tyrant! why am I,
With equal merit, equal Passion,
Thus the victim chosen to die?
Why am I
The victim chosen to die?
DELIA. On Fate alone depends success;
And Fancy, Reason overrules!
Or why should Virtue ever miss
Reward, so often given to fools?
'Tis not the valiant, nor the witty;
But who alone is born to please!
Love does predestinate our pity!
We choose but whom he first decrees!
WHY should a heart so tender break?
O, MYRA! give its anguish ease!
The use of Beauty you mistake!
Not meant to vex; but please!
Those lips, for smiling were designed!
That bosom, to be prest!
Your eyes, to languish, and look kind!
For amorous arms, your waist!
Each thing has its appointed right,
Established by the Powers above;
The sun, to give us warmth and light!
MYRA, to kindle love!
A PASTORAL BALLAD.
DID ever Swain, a Nymph adore,
As I ungrateful NANNY do!
Was ever Shepherd's heart so sore!
Was ever broken heart so true!
My eyes are swelled with tears; but she
Has never shed a tear for me!
If NANNY called, did ROBIN stay!
Or linger, when she bid me run!
She only had the word to say;
And all she asked was quickly done!
I always thought on her; but she
Would ne'er bestow a thought on me!
To let her cows my clover taste,
Have I not rose by break of day!
When did her heifers ever fast,
If ROBIN in his yard had hay!
Though to my fields they welcome were;
I never welcome was to her!
If NANNY ever lost a sheep,
I cheerfully did give her two!
Did not her lambs in safety sleep
Within my folds, in frost and snow!
Have they not there from cold been free;
But NANNY still is cold to me!
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