Poems to Thespia :: :: University of Virginia Library

Hence rash Belief! may thy wild thoughts again
Ne'er thro the cells of busy fancy rove!
Oblivion snatch their memory from my brain!
Nor leave a trace injurious to my love!

But ever thus in your most pleasing dress,
Ye dear ideas croud upon my soul!
There, each rejoicing avenue possess,
And fill with extasy the vital goal!

Place her, as now, before my mental eye
The sweet, unrivall'd, spotless, tender fair!
Pure as the fleecy whiteness of the sky,
Gentle as breezes mild of vernal air!

Can'st Thou not guess what torments seized my heart?
(For each soft passion, nicer sense is thine)
How through each nerve swift ran the venom'd smart,
When my eyes glanced along the dubious line?

Not for the Eastern Tyrant's gorgeous robe,
For all the slaves that at his feet have knelt,
Not for the wealth of all this ample globe,
Would I e'er feel again, what then I felt.

Reflection was o'erwhelm'd; it's power was lost;
Upon my brow a cold damp vapour hung;
My brain a thousand vague ideas cross'd,
Made my heart sick, and chain'd my palsied tongue.

Striving to read, my eyes their task refused;
Again I strove, and forced their straining gaze;
I thought—yet could not think I was abused—
I wish'd—but all was darkness and amaze.

Then all that I had read, or heard, or knew
Of women's guile, and how with arts they blind
Unguarded man, to true love most untrue,
Rush'd headlong in, and harrow'd up my mind.

Can I this want of confidence forgive
To me, who would for her thro sultry climes,
Thro frozen seas have pass'd? not whilest I live;
'Tis treason, perfidy, the worst of crimes.

To cast a shade o'er infamy! of vice
The bosom friend! to weave the mutual spell!
Surely herself will ne'er be over-nice,
Who could another's shame conceal so well.

Why did she beg the paper from my hand,
But that it proves her conduct base and light?
With trembling earnestness behind me stand?
Then haste away to shun my piercing sight?

It cannot be—some dark mistake is here—
Yet still, that Woman's life confirms the deed.
Why doubt? too true alas! the grounds of fear;
If true, my wounded heart must ever bleed.

These a few thoughts, from out the many were;
Which thro my mind with fervid motion roll'd:
Disorder, contradiction, dread was there,
And hope, quick yielding to suspicion bold.

Lo! I approach thy presence—while my knees
Can scarce support their tottering weight along,
My cheeks now glow, now on a sudden freeze,
Now pauses my weak heart, now vibrates strong.

Thy hand I press'd, but did not as before
Feel thrilling pleasure harmonize my frame;
That magic touch alas! prevailed no more;
Emotions rose, which now I blush to name.

Then first, with ill-dissembled tenderness
I wrapp'd thy soft confusion in my arms,
No accents were prepared thy ears to bless,
My soul was firmly closed against thy charms.

Yet did I pity thee: yes witness Heaven!
Compassion view'd thee, though I could not love;
I saw thee from my bleeding bosom riven!
And sunk below me, while I soar'd above.

Yes I look'd down with pity on thy state,
As on a Cherub whom I once admired;
I loved thee not, and yet I could not hate,
Mourn'd thee guilt-spotted, but no more desired.

With hesitation my reproach began;
What rapturous pleasure did thy answer bear!
Superior joy ne'er bathed the soul of man,
From the pure stream of bliss, and fount sincere.

Ah Fool! who would not rather have divined
Likeness of names?—Could I with mean disgrace
Thus taint that inborn rectitude of mind,
Disclosed in each bright feature of thy face?

Could I thus stamp with guilt, sensations sprung
From thought most delicate, which shrinks afraid
From the rude breath of censure, from the tongue
Ungenerous, daring without cause upbraid?

Oh! for the honour of thy sex, and thee,
Still be it mine my darling Fair to err!
Ne'er may thy gentle graces vail to me,
Be innocence thy genuine character.

But be it thine to pardon, to display
Thy meekness, frankness; so shall ardent love
Tho dimm'd awhile, shine with intenser ray,
And even time it's steadier warmth improve.