End, in a dying virgin's wretched fate,

Thy ill-starr'd passion and my stedfast hate : For long as blood informs these circling veins, Or fleeting breath its latest power retains, Hear me to Egypt's vengeful gods declare Hate is my part; be thine, O king, despair.

'Now strike, (she said, and open'd bare her Stand it in Judah's Chronicles confess'd, [breast) That David's son, by impious passion moved, Smote a she-slave, and murder'd what he loved.' Ashamed, confused, I started from the bed, And to my soul, yet uncollected, said,

Into thyself, fond Solomon, return ;

Reflect again, and thou again shalt mourn. [sought,
When I through number'd years have pleasure
And in vain hope the wanton phantom caught,
To mock my sense and mortify my pride,
'Tis in another's power, and is denied.
Am I a king, great Heaven! does life or death
Hang on the wrath or mercy of my breath,
While kneeling I my servant's smiles implore,
And one mad damsel dares dispute my power?
Toravish her? that thought was soon depress'd,
Which must debase the monarch to the beast.
To send her back? O whither, and to whom?
To lands where Solomon must never come?
To that insulting rival's happy arms

For whom, disdaining me, she keeps her charms?
Fantastic tyrant of the amorous heart,

How hard thy yoke! how cruel is thy dart!
Those scape thy anger who refuse thy sway,
And those are punish'd most, who most obey.
See Judah's king revere thy greater power;
What canst thou covet, or how triumph more?

End, in a dying virgin's wretched fate,

Thy ill-starr'd passion and my stedfast hate:
For long as blood informs these circling veins,
Or fleeting breath its latest power retains,
Hear me to Egypt's vengeful gods declare
Hate is my part; be thine, O king, despair.

Now strike, (she said, and open'd bare her Stand it in Judah's Chronicles confess'd, [breast) That David's son, by impious passion moved, Smote a she-slave, and murder'd what he loved.' Ashamed, confused, I started from the bed, And to my soul, yet uncollected, said,

Into thyself, fond Solomon, return;

Reflect again, and thou again shalt mourn. [sought,
When I through number'd years have pleasure
And in vain hope the wanton phantom caught,
To mock my sense and mortify my pride,
'Tis in another's power, and is denied.

Am I a king, great Heaven! does life or death
Hang on the wrath or mercy of my breath,
While kneeling I my servant's smiles implore,
And one mad damsel dares dispute my power?'

To ravish her? that thought was soon depress'd, Which must debase the monarch to the beast. To send her back? O whither, and to whom? To lands where Solomon must never come? To that insulting rival's happy arms

For whom, disdaining me, she keeps her charms? Fantastic tyrant of the amorous heart,

How hard thy yoke! how cruel is thy dart! Those scape thy anger who refuse thy sway, And those are punish'd most, who most obey. See Judah's king revere thy greater power; What canst thou covet, or how triumph more?