University of Virginia Library

TO The MEMORY of The Right Honourable, The late Lady Blantyre: A Pastoral.

CHLOE and LEONORA.
CHLOE.
Fly, Leonora, Fly the fatal Scene,
Here brooding Woes and Horrours damp the Plain:
The Spring no more the feather'd Warblers cheer,
But boding Owls and Ravens blast the Year.

LEONORA.
Whither, dear Chloe, are the Graces fled,
The Nymphs and Swains, that late adorn'd the Mead?
What means this awful Silence o'er the Groves?
Once the soft Seats, and Scenes of chastest Loves!

CHLOE.
Cease, Leonora, to renew my Smart,
To wound afresh this sad, this bleeding Heart;
Back to my Soul, see! my chill'd Spirits throng,
And fault'ring Accents tremble on my Tongue.

LEONORA.
Nay, dearest Chloe, grant my fond Request,
And pour thy Woes into my faithful Breast;
For thee my Share of sorrows I'll sustain,
And learn, tho' unacquainted, to complain.

CHLOE.
No Leonora, no; I'll weep alone,
I'll mourn for ever, my Lucinda gone!
Lucinda! Glory of the Sylvan Reign,
Now pale and breathless stretch'd upon the Plain.

LEONORA.
Lucinda dead! Ye Gods!—or did I dream?
Or did I hear my dear Lucinda's Name?
Lucinda dead!—For ever flow my Tears,
'Till my thin Form dissolve to follow her's.

CHLOE.
Yes, Leonora, we'll indulge our Woes,
And only in our Tears we'll find Repose;
Live on our Sorrows, and ask no Relief,
But from the Rage and Luxury of Grief.

LEONORA.
But see! young Strephon, in yon lonely Grove,
Dissolves in Sighs, for his departed Love;
What Floods of Tears his youthful Face distain!
Once the Delight, and Wonder of the Plain.

CHLOE.
Ah, Leanora, ah! the dismal Day!
When in the Gasps of Death Lucinda lay;
How to his Lips he press'd th'expiring Fair,
To catch the Soul as it dissolv'd in Air.

LEONORA.
Tell me, my Chloe, by our Friendship, tell
Our dear Lucinda's dying last Farewell;
How she to Strephon spoke that last Adieu,
And what her dying Lips pronounc'd to you.

CHLOE.
Yes, Leonora, I'll unfold that Scene,
'Twill rouse my Woes, and wake my languid Pain;
I'll tell Thee—First when Death approach'd her Soul,
And I beheld her swimming Eye-balls rowl;
All bath'd in Tears, and plung'd in deep Despair,
Straight to a Cypress Grove I bore the Fair;
While Nymphs around, and Swains, with piteous Cries
Fill all the Woods, and rend the echoing Skies!
Th'expiring Fair cast her dim Eyes around,
And sees their falling Tears bedew the Ground;
Adieu, ye Nymphs, she said—adieu ye Swains,
And all the soft Illusion of the Plains!
Adieu, my dearest Chloe, and to you,
My dearer Strephon, a long, long Adieu!
This Strephon heard, and furious with Despair,
Forward he rush'd, and clasp'd th'expiring Fair;
O Gods, he cry'd, Relentless and Unkind!
Is my Lucinda gone, and Strephon left behind?
No, no, Lucinda! we shall never part,
Our Spirit shall be one, as is our Heart;
Strephon shall grow for ever to thy Breast,
'Till Death unites us in eternal Rest.
At Strephon's Name once more she rais'd her Eyes,
And whispering, Farewell my Strephon—Dies.

LEONORA.
Ah Chloe! drop that dismal Scene of Death,
Or 'midst my Tears I must resign my Breath;
Round my sad Heart a deadly Horrour reigns,
And my chill'd Blood stands curdl'd in my Veins.

CHLOE.
Then Leonora, I beheld the Fair
Spring upward thro' the Fields of fluid Air;
Quick I beheld the Dove-like Form arise,
As from the Fun'ral Pile, and reach the Skies.
I saw an Angel-Train, in bright Aray,
On Azure Wings descending thro' the Day;
The spotless Spirit on her Way they meet,
And the fair Form with heav'nly Anthems Greet;
At last, thro' brighter Fields of Purple Light,
They soar'd, Triumphant, from my Mortal Sight.