Amasia, or, The Works of the Muses :: :: University of Virginia Library

As parted Lovers, who a while complain,
And then in fears, and Anxious Thoughts remain,
Least they should never meet in Joys again.
Make hast to write, and so, some ease they find,
Tell all their troubles, and reveal their mind.

165

So, me as much does your short absence move,
Friendship for you is like an other's Love.
What Swain is here, and you departed hence,
Or who instructed by the Muses since?
Dull, Thoughtless Hinds, with lifeless aspects Plow,
And bleaker Groves, with furious Tempests, Bow.
These are the Scenes, which to my view appear,
The only prospects, to delight me here.
No Beauteous Maid is seen in all the plains,
To raise my vigour, or to Fire my Veins.
My Youthful Blood must in one motion roll,
None knows to Charm, or to surprise the Soul.
In vain I walk thro' any pleasing Shade,
With you the Nymphs, and tender Virgins fled.
You, who alone are still successful there,
And gain new Conquests o'er the yielding fair.
But I, whose Flames boast no engaging Pow'rs,
I, whose low Fortunes flow not smooth as yours.
Fam'd for no Arts, nor in the Field renown'd,
Must still Despair to have my Passion Crown'd.
Should now some fair one, shining in her Charms,
Prefer my Fires, and raise me to her Arms.

166

Exalt me so, nor let me fondly die,
But lift my Passion, and my Fortunes high,
No Man alive could Love her, fixt, as I.
How would that Gen'rous, and that Noble she
Deserve indeed to be belov'd by me!
Success like this, I must not hope to find,
For rarely Virgins are so nobly kind.
Not Daphnis self, whose Wit is vastly great,
Who Lov'd, as never any Swain Lov'd yet,
Could boast a Triumph, perfectly compleat.
His frequent praise Fame's hundred Mouths shall fill,
Her loudest Trumpet is his lofty quill.
His latest Work his greatest glories shews,
The noblest War Sung by the noblest Muse.
Of British Arms such mighty deeds he tells,
As prove that Island the Whole World excells.
Late did his Verse the ravish'd Swains improve,
Taught them to Sing, and Blooming Maids to Love.
But now he's fled, from these Neglected Fields,
To dear delights, the grateful City yields.
Each fair one there shall be his shining prize,
He Charms all Hearts, as he bewitches Eyes.
To share such Joys, I value Groves no more,
Since you and he have left their Shades before.

167

I come, Dear Youth, past Pleasures to renew,
Pleasures, which none could ever give, but you,
And hast to see you soon, Adieu, Adieu.