We weave the chaplet, and we crown the bowl, And smiling 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 power How fhall the human bofom reft fecure? How fhall our thought avoid the various fnare? Or wisdom to our caution'd foul declare The different fhapes, 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 majefty, and moves with state: Unbent her foul, and in misfortunes great, She fcorns the world, and dares the rage of fate. Here whilft we take ftern manhood for our guide, And guard our conduct with becoming pride; Charm'd with her courage in her action fhown, We praise her mind, the image of our own. She that can pleafe is certain to perfuade: To-day belov'd, to-morrow is obey'd.
We think we fee through 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 fpeak her great, we wish her kind.
To-morrow, cruel power! thou arm'ft the fair With flowing forrow, and difhevel'd hair; Sad her complaint, and humble is her tale, Her fighs explaining where her accents fail. Here generous softness warms the honest breast: We raise the fad, and fuccour the diftrefs'd; And whilft our wish 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 those bosoms arm, Which tears can foften, and which fighs can warm. Against this nearest crueleft of foes,
What shall 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 close fiend has gain'd our treacherous mind; Infulting there does reafon's power deride; And blind himself, conducts the dazzl❜d guide? My conqueror 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 she was gone, It figh'd, and griev'd, impatient of her stay: Return'd, fhe chas'd thofe fighs, that grief away: Her abfence made the night: her prefence brought the day.
The ball, the play, the mafk by turns fucceed, For her I make the fong: the dance with her I lead.
I court her various in each shape 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 conqueft guides her brow; And low, like Barak, at her feet I bow. The mimic chorus fings her profperous hand; As fhe had flain the foe, and fav'd the land. To-morrow the approves a softer 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 depose their glittering arms, Receive her bounties, and recite her charms; Whilft I affume my father's ftep and mien, To meet with due regard my future Queen. If haply Abra's will be now inclin'd To range the woods, or chace the flying hind; Soon as the fun awakes, the sprightly court Leave their repofe, and haften to the sport. In leffen'd royalty, and humble state, Thy King, Jerufalem, defcends to wait,
'Till Abra comes. She comes: a milk white fteed, Mixture of Perfia's and Arabia's breed,
Suftains the nymph: her garments flying loofe (As the Sydonian maids, or Thracian use) And half her knee, and half her breast appear, By art, like negligence, difclos'd, and bare.
Her left hand guides the hunting courfer's flight: A filver bow the carries in her right:
And from the golden quiver at her fide, Ruftles the ebon arrow's feather'd pride. Saphirs and diamonds on her front difplay An artificial moon's increasing ray. Diana, huntrefs, miftrefs of the groves, The favorite Abra speaks, and looks, and moves. Her, as the prefent goddefs, I obey: Beneath her feet the captive game I lay, The mingl'd chorus fings Diana's fame : Clarions and horns in louder peals proclaim Her myftic praife: the vocal triumphs bound Against the hills: the hills reflect the found.
If, tir'd this evening with the hunted woods, To the large fish pools, or the glaffy floods, Her mind to-morrow points; a thoufand hands To-night employ'd, obey the kind's commands. Upon the watery beach an artful pile Of planks is join'd, and forms a moving ifle: A golden chariot in the midst is fet;
And filver cygnets feem to feel its weight. Abra, bright queen, afcends her gaudy throne, In femblance of the Græcian Venus known: Tritons and fea-green Naiads round her move; And fing in moving ftrains the force of love: Whilft as th' approaching pageant does appear, And echoing crouds fpeak mighty Venus near,
I, her adorer, too devoutly stand Faft on the utmoft margin of the land, With arms and hopes extended, to receive The fancy'd goddefs rifing from the wave. O fubject Reafon! O imperious Love! Whither yet further would my folly rove? Is it enough that Abra fhould be great In the wall'd palace, or the rural feat? That making habits, and a borrow'd name Contrive to hide my plenitude of shame? No, no: Jerufalem combin'd muft fee My open fault, and regal infamy.
Solemn a month is deftin'd for the feaft: Abra invites: the nation is the guest.
To have the honour of each day sustain'd,
The woods are travers'd; and the lakes are drain’d: Arabia's wilds, and Ægypt's are explor❜d:
The edible creation decks the board:
Hardly the Phenix 'fcapes
The men their lyres, the maids their voices raife, To fing my happiness, and Abra's praise.
And flavish bards our mutual loves rehearse In lying ftrains, and ignominious verfe:
While, from the banquet leading forth the bride, Whom prudent love from publick eyes fhould hide; I shew her to the world, confefs'd and known Queen of my heart, and partner of my throne.
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