The Land of Love :: :: University of Virginia Library

Oft in my jealous Transports, I would cry,
Ye happy Shades, ye happy Bow'rs,
Why speaks she tenderer to you, than me?
Why does she smile, caress, and praise your Flow'rs?
Why sighs she out her Secrets all,
Into your fragrant Leaves?
Why does she to her Aid your Sweetness call,
Yet takes less from you, than she gives?
Why on your Beds must you be happy made,
And be together with Aminta laid?
You from her Hands and Lips may Kisses take,
And never meet Reproaches from her Pride;
A thousand blissful Stealths may make,
Even into her softer Bosom glide,

And there expire. O happy Rival Flow'rs!
How vainly do I wish my Fate like that of yours!

II.

Tell me, ye silent Groves, whose Gloom invites
The lovely Charmer to your Solitudes;
Tell me for whom she languishes and sighs,
For whom she feels her soft Inquietudes:
Name me the Youth for whom she makes her Vows;
For she has breath'd them oft among your list'ning Boughs.
O happy Confidents of her Amours!
How vainly do I wish my Fortune bless'd like yours!

III.

O happy Brooks! O happy Rivulets!
And Springs that in a thousand Windings move!
Upon your Banks how oft Aminta sets,
And prattles to you all her Tale of Love?
Whilst your smooth Surface little Circles bears,
From the Impressions of her falling Tears.
Dear Streams, to whom she gives her softest Hours;
How vainly do I wish my Happiness like yours!

Sometimes I rail'd again, and would upbraid
Reproachfully the charming fickle Maid:
Sometimes I vow'd to love no more,
But one vain short-liv'd Hour,
Would perjure all I'd sworn before,
And damn my fancy'd Power.
Sometimes the sullen Fit would last
A tedious live-long Day;

But when the racking Hours were past,
With what Impatience would I haste,
And at her Feet weep my Neglect away?
Quarrels are the Reserve Love keeps in Store,
To aid his Flames, and make them burn the more.