Mr. Cooke's Original Poems with Imitations and Translations of Several Select Passages of the Antients, In Four Parts: To which are added Proposals For perfecting the English Language |
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 | Mr. Cooke's Original Poems |  |
118
ODE the Thirteenth. SYLVIA.
I
I Sylvia priz'd as Lillys fair,All fragrant as the morning Air,
And sweeter than the Lark her Voice.
With Ease she could my Cares beguile;
A Word, a tender Look, or Smile,
Would make the gloomy Soul rejoice.
II
When on her Breasts, expanded white,Heaving luxuriant with Delight,
I fondly lay'd my lovesick Head,
The Roses shed their Sweets around,
And Vi'lets breathing from the Ground
Compos'd the aromatic Bed.
119
III
Beneath the grateful Shade I ly,Hid almost from the Sun's great Eye;
Protect me all ye Pow'rs above!
O! keep me, ever fix me, here,
Where Nothing can create a Fear,
Where all is Softness, all is Love!
IV
Thus in the Ecstacy of Bliss,Just from the heart-dissolving Kiss,
I pray'd, alas! a heedless Swain;
For to that joyous fatal Hour,
(Was Poyson in so sweet a Flow'r?)
Succeeded Days on Days of Pain.
V
The Sailor so, with gladsome Eye,Th'unruffel'd Main, and azure Sky,
Views, while the Winds propitious blow:
Forward he steers, with Look serene,
Till, bulging on a Rock unseen,
Appears a sudden Face of Woe.
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VI
Henceforth, unwary Youth, beware,Nor make such fleeting Joys your Care;
Let Virtue ever be your Guard.
Pleasures adieu, whose Fruits are Pain,
For Sages have not taught in vain,
That Virtue is her own Reward.
| Mr. Cooke's Original Poems | |