At morn with him I o'er the hills had run,
Scornful of winter's froft and fummer's fun,
Still afking where he made his flock to reft at noon.
For him at night, the dear expected guest,
I had with hafty joy prepar'd the featt,
And from the cottage, o'er the distant plain,
Sent forth my longing eye to meet the swain,
Wav'ring, impatient, toss'd by hope and fear,
Till he and joy together should appear,
And the lov'd dog declare his master near.
On my declining neck and open breast
I fhould have lull'd the lovely youth to rest,
And from beneath his head at dawning day,
With fofteft care, have ftol'n my arm away,
To rife, and from the fold release the sheep,
Fond of his flock, indulgent to his fleep.
Had bleft my life, and deck'd my natal hour
With height of title and extent of pow'r,
Or if kind Heav'n, propitious to my flame, (For fure from Heav'n the faithful ardour came)
Without a crime my paffion had afpir'd,
Found the lov'd prince, and told what defir'd.
Then I had come, preventing Sheba's queen,
To fee the comelieft of the fons of men:
To hear the charming poet's am'rous fong,
And gather honey falling from his tongue;
To take the fragrant kiffes of his mouth,
Sweeter than breezes of her native fouth,
Likening his grace, his person, and his mein,
To all that great or beauteous I had feen.
Serene and bright his eyes, as folar beams,
Reflecting temper'd light from crystal streams;
Ruddy as gold his cheek; his bofom fair
As filver; the curled ringlets of his hair
Black as the raven's wing; his lips more red
Than eastern coral or the scarlet thread;
Even his teeth, and white like a young flock,
Coeval, newly fhorn, from the clear brook
Recent, and blanching on the funny rock.
Iv'ry with fapphires interfpers'd, explains
How white his hands, how blue the manly veins; 455
Columns of polifh'd marble, firmly fet
On golden bases, are his legs and feet :
His itature all majestic, all divine,
Strait as the palm tree, ftrong as is the pine;
Saffron and myrrh are on his garments fhed,
And everlasting fweets bloom round his head.
What utter I! where am I! wretched maid!
Die, Abra, die; too plainly haft thou faid
Thy foul's defire to meet his high embrace,
And bleffing ftamp'd upon thy future race;
To bid attentive nations blefs thy womb,
With unborn monarchs charg'd, and Solomons to come.
Here o'er her fpeech her flowing eyes prevail.
O foolish maid! and O unhappy tale!
My fuff'ring heart for ever fhall defy
New wounds and danger from a future eye.
O yet my tortur'd fenfes deep retain
The wretched mem'ry of my former pain,
The dire affront, and my Egyptian chain.
As time, I faid, may happily efface
That cruel image of the King's difgrace,
Imperial Reafon fhall refume her feat,
And Solomon, once fall'n, again be great.
Betray'd by paffion, as fubdu’d in war,
We wifely thould exert a double care,
Nor ever ought a fecond time to err.
This Abra then-
I faw her; 'twas humanity'; it gave
Some refpite to the forrows of my flave.
Her fond excefs proclaim'd her paffion true,
And gen'rous pity to that truth was due.
Well I entreated her who well deferv'd;
I call'd her often, for fhe always ferv'd:
Ufe made her perfon eafy to my fight,
And eafe infenfibly produc'd delight.
Whone'er I revell'd in the women's bow'rs (For fast I fought her but at loofer hours)
The apples fhe had gather'd fmelt most sweet,
The cake fhe kneaded was the fav'ry meat;
But fruits their odour loft, and meats their tafte, 495
If gentle Abra had not deck'd the feaft:
Dishonour'd did the fparkling goblet stand,
Unless receiv'd from gentle Abra's hand
And when the virgins form'd the ev'ning choir,
Raifing their voices to the master-lyre,
Too flat I thought this voice, and that too fhrill;
One show'd too much, and one too little skill;
Nor could my foul approve the mufic's tone,
Till all was hufh'd, and Abra fung alone.
Fairer the feem'd diftinguish'd from the reft,
And better mien difclos'd, as better dreft:
A bright tiara round her forehead ty’d,
To jufter bounds confin'd its rifing pride:
The blufhing ruby on her fnowy breast
Render'd its panting whitenefs more confeft;
Bracelets of pearl gave roundness to her arm,
And ev'ry gem augmented ev'ry charm:
Her fenfes pleas'd, her beauty ftill improv❜d,
And the more lovely grew as more belov'd.
And now I could behold, avow, and blame,
The feveral follies of my former flame,
Willing my heart for recompence to prove
The certain joys that lie in profp'rous love.
For what, faid I, from Abra can I fear,
Too humble to infult, too soft to be fevere?
The damfel's fole ambition is to please;
With freedom I may like, and quit with eafe;
She foothes, but never can enthral my mind :
Why may not peace and love for once be join'd?
Great Heav'n! how frail thy creature man is made! How by himself infenfibly betray'd!
In our own ftrength unhappily fecure,
Too little cautious of the adverse pow'r,
And by the blast of felf-opinion mov'd,
We wish to charm, and feek to be belov'd.
On pleasures flowing brink we idly stray,
Mafters as yet of our returning way;
Seeing no danger we difarm our mind,
And give our conduct to the waves and wind;
Then in the flow'ry mead or verdant shade
To wanton dalliance negligently laid,
We weave the chaplet and we crown the bowl,
And fmiling fee the nearer waters roll,
Till the ftrong gufts of raging paffion rife,
Till the dire tempeft mingles earth and skies,
And swift into the boundlefs ocean borne,
Our foolish confidence too late we mourn;
Round our devoted heads the billows beat,
And from our troubled view the leffen'd lands retreat. O mighty Love! from thy unbounded pow'r 545 How fhall the human bofom reft fecure?
How shall our thought avoid the various fnare,
Or wisdom to our caution'd foul declare
The diff'rent shapes thou pleaseft to employ
When bent to hurt, and certain to destroy?
The haughty nymph, in open beauty dreft,
To-day encounters our unguarded breast;
She looks with majesty, and moves with state:
Unbent her foul, and in misfortune great,
She fcorns the world, and dares the rage of Fate. 555
Here whilft we take stern manhood for our guide,
And guard our conduct with becoming pride,
Charm'd with the courage in her action shown,
We praise her mind, the image of our own,
She that can please is certain to perfuade;
To-day belov'd, to-morrow is obey'd.
We think we fee thro' Reafon's optics right,
Nor find how Beauty's rays elude our fight:
Struck with her eye whilft we applaud her mind,
And when we speak her great we with her kind. 565
To-morrow, cruel Pow'r! thou arm'ft the fair
With flowing forrow and difhevell'd hair.
Sad her complaint, and humble is her tale,
Her fighs explaining where her accent fail :
Here gen'rous foftnefs warms the honeft breast;
We raife the fad, and fuccour the diftreft,
And whilft our wifh prepares the kind relief,
Whilft pity mitigates her rifing grief,
We ficken foon from her contagious care,
Grieve for her forrows, groan for her defpair,
And against love, too late, thofe bofoms arm,
Which tears can foften, and which fighs can warm.
Against this neareft, cruelleft of foes,
What fhall wit meditate, or force oppofe?
Whence, feeble Nature, fhall we fummon aid,
If by our pity and our pride betray'd?
External remedy fhall we hope to find,
When the clofe fiend has gain'd our treach'rous mind,
Infulting there does Reafon's pow'r deride,
And, blind himself, conducts the dazzled guide? 585
My conqu'ror now, my lovely Abra, held
My freedom in her chains; my heart was fill'd
With her, with her alone, in her alone
It fought its peace and joy: while fhe was gone
It figh'd, and griev'd, impatient of her ftay:
Return'd, the chas'd thofe fighs, that grief, away:
Her abfence made the night, her prefence brought the
day.
The ball, the play, the mask, by turns fucceed:
For her I make the fong; the dance with her I lead:
I court her, various, in each fhape and drefs
That luxury may form or thought exprefs.
To-day beneath the palm-tree, on the plains,
In Deborah's arms and habit Abra reigns:
The wreath, denoting conquest, guides her brow,
And low, like Barak, at her feet I bow.
The mimic Chorus fings her profp'rous hand,
As he had flain the foe and fav'd the land.
To-morrow the approves a fofter air,
Forfakes the pomp and pageantry of war,
The form of peaceful Abigail affumes,
And from the village with the prefent comes:
The youthful band depofe their glitt'ring aims,
Receive her bounties and recite her charms,
Whilft I affume my father's ftep and mien,
To meet with due regard my future queen
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