University of Virginia Library


25

SONG XXII. The Boon.

I

Cou'd I believe when I did part
From Cælia, that my tortur'd Heart
Cou'd e'er receive another Dart,
Not Raving with the bleeding Wound,
And dying with the Smart?

II

But Beauty, tho' in some severe,
In others to our Am'rous Care
Delighted lends a list'ning Ear;
All are not fooolish that are young,
Nor cruel that are fair.

III

O Silvia! you redeem the Race
From all their Rigour and Disgrace,
Compassion in their stead you place;
And the dear Moment of Delight
Sits smiling on thy Face.

IV

Ah be but true! and bless my Flame
With Ardour still to be the same,
And to the Clouds I'll raise your Name
Nor there shall stop; but, singing thine,
Convey my Own to Fame.