And decent emblem; and at least perfuade
This happy nymph, that Emma may be laid,
Where thou, dear author of my death, where she
With frequent eye my fepulchre may fee.
The nymph amidst her joys may haply breath
One pious figh, reflecting on my death,
And the fad fate which she may one day, prove,
Who hopes from Henry's vows eternal love.
And thou forfworn, thou cruel, as thou art,
If Emma's image ever touch'd thy heart;
Thou sure must give one thought, and drop one tear
To her, whom love abandon'd to despair;
To her, who dying, on the wounded stone
Bid it in lasting characters be known,
That, of mankind, she lov'd but thee alone.
Hear, folemn Jove; and conscious Venus, hear;
And thou, bright maid, believe me, whilft Ifwear;
No time, no change, no future flame hall move
The well-plac'd basis of my lasting love.
O powerful virtue! O victorious fair!
At least excufe a trial too fevere:
Receive the triumph, and forget the war.
No banish'd man, condemn'd in woods to rove,
Intreats thy pardon, and implores thy love:
No perjur'd knight defires to quit thy arms,
Faireft collection of thy fex's charms,
Crown of my love, and honour of my youth:
Henry, thy Henry with eternal truth,
As thou may't wish, shall all his life imploy,
And found his glory in his Emma's joy.
In me behold the potent Edgar's heir,
Illuftrious carl: him terrible in war
Let Loyre confefs; for she has felt his sword,
And trembling fled before the British lord.
Him great in peace and wealth fair Deva knows;
For she amidst his fpacious meadows flows;
Inclines her urn upon his fatten'd lands;
And fees his num'rous herd imprint her fands.
And thou, my fair, my dove, shalt raise thy thought
To greatness next to empire; shalt be brought
With folemn pomp to my paternal feat;
Where peace and plenty on thy word shall wait.
Mufic and fong shall wake the marriage-day :
And while the priests accuse the bride's delay;
Myrtles and rofes shall obftruct her way.
Friendship shall fill thy evening feasts adorn;
And blooming peace shall ever bless thy morn.
Succeeding years their happy race shall run:
And age unheeded by delight come on;
While yet fuperior love shall mock his pow'r!
And when old time shall turn the fated hour,
Which only can our well-ty'd knot unfold;
What refts of both, one fepulchre shall hold.
Hence then for ever from my Emma's breast
(That heav'n of softness, and that feat of reft)
Ye doubts and fears, and all that know to move
Tormenting grief, and all that trouble love,
Scatter'd by winds recede, and wild in forrests rove.
EM MA.
O day the faireft fure that ever rose!
Period and end of anxious Emma's woes!
Sire of her joy, and fource of her delight;
O! wing'd with pleasure take thy happy flight,
And give each future morn a tincture of thy white.
Yet tell thy votary, potent queen of love,
Henry, my Henry, will he never rove?
Will he be ever kind, and just and good?
And is there yet no mistress in the wood?
None, none there is: the thought was rash and vain;
A falfe idea, and a fancy'd pain.
Doubt shall for ever quit my strengthen'd heart,
And anxious jealoufie's corroding smart;
Nor other inmate shall inhabit there,
But foft belief, young joy, and pleasing care.
Hence let the tides of plenty ebb and flow,
And Fortune's various gale unheeded blow.
If at my feet, the suppliant goddess stands,
And sheds her treasure with unweary'd hands;
Her prefent favour cautious I'll embrace,
And not unthankful use the profer'd grace:
If the reclaims the temporary boon,
And tries her pinions, flutt'ring to be gone;
Secure of mind I'll obviate her intent,
And unconcern'd return the goods she lent.
Nor happiness can I, nor misery feel,
From any turn of her fantastic wheel :
Friendship's great laws, and love's fuperior pow'rs
Muft mark the colour of my future hours.
From the events which thy commands create
I must my bleffings or my forrows date;
And Henry's will must dictate Emma's fate.
Yet while with close delight and inward pride
(Which from the world my careful foul shall hide)
I fee thee, lord and end of my defire,
Exalted high as virtue can require;
With pow'r invested, and with pleasure chear'd;
Sought by the good, by the oppreffor fear'd;
Loaded and bleft with all the affluent ftore,
Which human vows at fmoaking fhrines implore;
Grateful and humble grant me to employ
My life, fubfervient only to thy joy;
And at my death to blefs thy kindness shown
To her, who of mankind could love but thee alone.
THILE thus the conftant pair alternate faid,
Joyful above them and around them play'd
Angels and fportive Loves, à numerous crowd;
Smiling they clapt their wings, and low they bow'd:
They tumbled all their little quivers o'er,
To chufe propitious fhafts, a precious store::..
That when their god fhould take his future darts,
To ftrike (however rarely) conftant hearts,
His happy skill might proper arins imploy,
All tipt with pleasure, and all wing'd with joy:
And those, they vow'd, whofe lives fhould imitate
These lovers conftancy, should share their fate.
The queen of beauty flop'd her bridled doves;
Approv'd the little labour of the Loves;
Was proud and pleas'd the mutual vow to hear;
And to the triumph call'd the god of war:
Soon as she calls, the god is always near.
Now Mars, she faid, let fame exalt her voice;
Nor let thy conquefts only be her choice:
But when she fings great Edward from the field
Return'd, the hoftile spear and captive shield
In Concord's temple hung, and Gallia taught to yield:
And when, as prudent Saturn shall compleat
The years defign'd to perfect Britain's state,
The fwift-wing'd power shall take her trump again,
To fing her fav'rite Anna's wondrous reign;
To recolle&t unweary'd Marlbro's toils,
Old Rufus' hall unequal to his fpoils;
The British foldier from his high command
Glorious, and Gaul thrice vanquish'd by his hand:
Let her at least perform what I defire;
With fecond breath the vocal brass inspire;
And tell the nations in no vulgar strain,
What wars I manage, and what wreaths I gain.
And when thy tumults and thy fights are past;
And when thy lawrels at my feet are cast;
Faithful may't thou, like British Henry prove:
And Emma-like let me return thy love.
Renown'd for truth, let all thy fons appear;
And conftant beauty shall reward their care.
Mars fmil'd, and bow'd: the Cyprian deity
Turn'd to the glorious ruler of the sky;
And thou, she fmiling faid, great god of days
And verse, behold my deed, and fing my praife,
As on the British earth, my fav'rite isle,
Thy gentle rays and kindest influence fmile,
Thro' all her laughing fields and verdant groves,
Proclaim with joy these memorable loves.
From ev'ry annual course let one great day,
To celebrated sports and floral play
Be fet afide; and in the fofteft lays
Of thy poetic fons, be folemn praise,
And everlasting marks of honour paid,
To the true lover, and the Nut-brown Maid.
THE END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
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