Along the ground her colder limbs fhe laid,
Where late the grave was for Amyntas made;
Then from her fwimming eyes began to pour
Of foftly-falling rain a silver shower;
Her loosely-flowing hair, all radiant bright,
O'erspread the dewy grass like streams of light:
As if the fun had of his beams been fhorn,
And caft to earth the glories he had worn.
A fight fo lovely fad, fuch deep distress,,
No tongue can tell, no pencil can express.
And now the winds, which had fo long been still,
Began the swelling air with fighs to fill:
The water-nymphs, who motionless remain'd,
Like images of ice, while fhe complain'd,
Now loos'd. their streams; as when descending rains
Roll the steep torrents headlong o'er the plains.
The prone creation, who fo long had gaz'd,
Charm'd with her cries, and at her griefs amaz'd,
Began to roar and howl with horrid yell,
Difmal to hear, and terrible to tell;
Nothing but groans and fighs were heard around,,
And Eche multiplied each mournful sound.
When all at once an universal pause
Of grief was made, as from fome secret cause..
The balmy air with fragrant. fcents was fill'd,
As if each weeping tree had gums diftill'd.
Such, if not fweeter, was the rich perfume
Which swift afcended from Amyntas' tomb:.
As if th' Arabian bird her neft had fir'd,
And on the spicy pile were now expir❜d..
VOL. XXXIV.
And now the turf, which late was naked feen,
Was fudden spread with lively-fpringing green;
And Amaryllis faw, with wondering eyes,
A flowery bed, where she had wept, arife;
Thick as the pearly drops the fair had fhed,
The blowing buds advanc'd their purple head;
From every tear that fell a violet grew,
And thence their sweetness came, and thence their
mournful hue.
Remember this, ye nymphs and gentle maids,
When folitude ye feek in gloomy fhades ;
Or walk on banks where filent waters flow,
For there this lovely flower will love to grow.
Think on Amyntas oft as ye fhall stoop
To crop the stalks, and take them softly up.
When in your fnowy necks their sweets you wear,
Give a foft figh, and drop a tender tear :
To lov'd Amyntas pay the tribute due,
And bless his peaceful grave, where first they grew.
HY are those hours, which Heaven in pity lent To longing love, in fruitless forrow spent? Why fighs my fair? why does that bofom móve With any paffion ftirr'd, but rifing love?
Can Discontent find place within that breast,
On whofe foft pillows ev'n Despair might rest
Divide thy woes, and give me my fad part;
I am no stranger to an aching heart;
Too well I know the force of inward grief,
And well can bear it to give you relief:
All love's feverest pangs I can endure:
I can bear pain, though hopeless of a cure.
I know what 'tis to weep, and figh, and pray,
To wake all night, yet dread the breaking day ;-
I know what 'tis to with, and hope, and all in vain,
And meet, for humble love, unkind difdain:
Anger and hate I have been forc'd to bear,
Nay, jealoufy and I have felt despair..
These pains for you I have been forc'd to prove,
For cruel you, when I began to love.
Till warm compassion took at length my part,
And melted to my wish your yielding heart.
O the dear hour in which you did refign!
When round my neck your willing arms did twine,
And, in a kiss, you faid your heart was mine.
Through each returning year may that hour be
Diftinguish'd in the rounds of all eternity;
Gay be the fun that hour in all his light,
Let him collect the day to be more bright,
Shine all that hour, and let the rest be night.
And fhall! I all this heaven of bliss receive
From you, yet not lament to see you grieve!
Shall I, who nourish'd in my breast defire,
When your cold fcorn and frowns forbid the fire;
Now when a mutual flame you have reveal'd,
And the dear union of our fouls is feal'd,
When all my joys complete in you I find,
Shall I not fhare the forrows of your mind?
O tell me, tell me all-whence does arife
This flood of tears? whence are thefe frequent fighs?
Why does that lovely head, like a fair flower
Opprefs'd with drops of a hard-falling shower,
Bend with its weight of grief, and seem to grow
Downward to earth, and kiss the root of woe?
Lean on my breast, and let me fold thee faft,
Lock'd in these arms, think all thy forrows paft;
Or what remain think lighter made by me;
So I should think, were I fo held by thee.
Murmur thy plaints, and gently wound my ears;
Sigh on my lip, and let me drink thy tears;
Join to my cheek thy cold and dewy face,
And let pale grief to glowing love give place..
O fpeak-for woe in filence moft
appears;
Speak, ere my fancy magnify my fears.
Is there a cause which words can not exprefs?
Can I not bear a part, nor make it less?
I know not what to think- -am I in fault?
I have not, to my knowledge, err'd in thought,
Nor wander'd from my love; nor would I be
Lord of the world, to live depriv'd of thee.
You weep afresh, and at that word you start!
Am I to be depriv'd then?-muft we part?
Curfe on that word fo ready to be spoke,
For through my lips, unmeant by me, it broke.
Oh no, we must not, will not, cannot part,
And my tongue talks, unprompted by my heart.
Yet fpeak, for my diftraction grows apace,
And racking fears and restless doubts increase
And fears and doubts to jealousy will turn,
The hottest hell, in which a heart can burn
Purfue and feek her, every lover ;
I'll tell the figns by which you may
The wandering fhepherdefs difcover.
Both study'd, though both feem neglected;
Careless she is with artful care,
Affecting to feem unaffected.
III.
With skill her eyes dart every glance,
Yet change fo foon you'd ne'er fufpect them;
For she'd perfuade they wound by chance,
Though certain aim and art direct them.
IV.
She likes herfelf, yet others hates
For that which in herself she prizes;
And, while fhe laughs at them, forgets
She is the thing that fhe defpifes.
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