 | The Land of Love |  |
Rivals.
Rivals 'tis call'd, a Village, where
Th'Inhabitants in Fury still appear;
Malicious Paleness, or an angry Red,
O'er each uneasy Face is ever spread.
Their Eyes are either smiling with Disdain,
Or fiercely glow with raging Fire;
Gloomy and sullen with dissembled Pain,
Love in the Heart, Revenge in the Desire.
Combates, Duels, Challenges,
Is the Discourse, and all the Bus'ness there;
Respect of Blood, nor sacred Friendship's Ties,
Can't reconcile the Civil War.
Rage, Horror, Death, and wild Despair,
Are still encounter'd, and still practis'd there.
Th'Inhabitants in Fury still appear;
Malicious Paleness, or an angry Red,
O'er each uneasy Face is ever spread.
Their Eyes are either smiling with Disdain,
Or fiercely glow with raging Fire;
Gloomy and sullen with dissembled Pain,
Love in the Heart, Revenge in the Desire.
Combates, Duels, Challenges,
Is the Discourse, and all the Bus'ness there;
Respect of Blood, nor sacred Friendship's Ties,
Can't reconcile the Civil War.
Rage, Horror, Death, and wild Despair,
Are still encounter'd, and still practis'd there.
50
'Twas here the lovely cruel Maid I found,
Encompass'd with a thousand Lovers round.
At my Approach, I saw their Blushes rise,
And they regarded me with angry Eyes:
Aminta too, or else my Fancy 'twas,
Receiv'd me with a shy and cold Address.
I could not speak—but sigh'd, retir'd, and bow'd;
With Pain I heard her talk, and laugh aloud,
And deal her Freedoms to the num'rous Crowd.
I curs'd her Smiles, and envy'd ev'ry Look,
And swore it was too kind, whate'er she spoke:
Condemn'd her Air, rail'd on her free Address,
Fear'd her soft Eyes did her false Heart confess,
And vainly wish'd their charming Beauties less.
A secret Hatred in my Soul I bear,
Against the Object of my new Despair.
I waited all the Day, but all in vain;
Not one lone Minute eas'd my anxious Pain.
Love saw my Grief, and found my Rage grew high,
So led me off, to lodge at Jealousy.
Encompass'd with a thousand Lovers round.
At my Approach, I saw their Blushes rise,
And they regarded me with angry Eyes:
Aminta too, or else my Fancy 'twas,
Receiv'd me with a shy and cold Address.
I could not speak—but sigh'd, retir'd, and bow'd;
With Pain I heard her talk, and laugh aloud,
And deal her Freedoms to the num'rous Crowd.
I curs'd her Smiles, and envy'd ev'ry Look,
And swore it was too kind, whate'er she spoke:
Condemn'd her Air, rail'd on her free Address,
Fear'd her soft Eyes did her false Heart confess,
And vainly wish'd their charming Beauties less.
A secret Hatred in my Soul I bear,
Against the Object of my new Despair.
I waited all the Day, but all in vain;
Not one lone Minute eas'd my anxious Pain.
Love saw my Grief, and found my Rage grew high,
So led me off, to lodge at Jealousy.
| The Land of Love | |