The Poems of Robert Fergusson :: :: University of Virginia Library

Let our mirth and joy proclaim
Great Amintas' happy name;
May such merit be renown'd,
And may virtue still be crown'd:
May he free from trouble reign,
And his subjects peace maintain;
Tyrants stormy laws shall die,
Pleasing calms around us fly.

[From Act II. Scene IV.]

Tho' Heavens good pleasure has alter'd my state,
My mind's still the same, tho' by fortune I'm great;
Nor shall mighty conquests and sudden alarms,
Chase from my fond heart my true love's dear charms.

233

[From Act II. Scene V.]

Send me means which will repay
Him that gave the royal sway;
May I still in mind retain
How I rul'd my fleecy train,
That with bounty I may learn,
With peace and justice to govern.

[From Act II. Scene VII.]

[I]

My fears still oppress me, I'm troubled with grief,
No aid doth approach me, no happy relief,
My mind's still uneasy with anxious cares,
Till death close the scene, and betray my false fears.

II

The sailor, thus frighted when dangers appear,
Surveys the swift billows around him with fear;
No hope, no blest refuge, no safety he'll find,
Till death from his troubles and cares free his mind.

[From Act II. Scene IX.]

QUARTETTO

Amint.

Ah! Eliza, did you know
How you fill my breast with woe,
You'd cease to wound my heart,
Or cruel sounds impart.
Hear me, then, ye Fates above,
Send fresh comfort to my love,
And crown my soul with peace,
Her mind with friendly ease.

234

Eliza.

While shepherds cruel prove,
Slighting their former love,
Tell me, Amintas, then,
Are you still that humble swain,
Who by me your flocks wou'd feed,
Playing on your tuneful reed;
Am I banish'd from your mind?
Shall I no more favour find?

Amint. and Agen.

Lets away, and sigh alone,
All our former peace is gone;
Joy fills the peasants breast,
They alone are truly blest;
When the Nobles' births are crost,
And in many troubles lost.
Don't move us with your tears,
Free our sad soul from fears.

Tham.

Are the Fates so unkind?
Are our vows out of mind?
Are you so cruel grown,
Your true lover to disown?
Tell my why you thus complain,
Frowning on us with disdain?
Shall we our sufferings know,
The source of all our woe?

CHORUS.

Cruel Fortune, cease to frown,
Take again your subtle crown;
Let gay looks from lovers dart,
And enliven every heart:
Let our souls be freed from grief,
And each lover find relief;
That Shepherds ever may be blest,
And Shepherdesses sweet carest.

235

[From Act III. Scene I.]

When chilling frosts their visits pay,
And frigid Winter bears the sway;
If then with flow'rs the hills are crown'd,
And leafy trees adorn the ground,
Tell me then my faithless heart
No soothing pity can impart.

[From Act III. Scene III.]

No sweet refuge can I find,
Since my lover proves unkind;
Can you then behold my pain,
And such cruel thoughts maintain?

Fortune, frowning with disdain,
Hears my vow and sighs in vain:
My lover's gone, I will not rest,
A thousand fears distract my breast.

[From Act III. Scene IV.]

May those bright eyes for ever see
That morning's golden rays,
Which stole my lover's heart away,
And brought thy happy days.

Let Phoebus, when that morn he spies,
The earth with joy survey;
May beauty gild the chearful skies,
And hail the bounteous day.

236

[From Act III. Scene V.]

[I]

Agenor, sure, does not deserve
For me to suffer so;
From our past vows I'll never swerve,
But calm his present woe.
My crown I freely will resign
For fond Agenor's charms;
No more shall my fond heart repine,
But fly into his arms.

II

Sure he who wou'd my thoughts condemn,
No valour can impart;
No virtue can his soul inflame,
Or grow within his heart.
Love's pleasant days laid up in store,
Shall bounteously repay
Our present woes, when we no more
Shall meet with such delay.