Translations and Poems Written on Several Subjects ::

Late did Alphonso sunk in silent Woe,
His fond Concern for fair Emilia show;
Pensive within the shady Grove he sate,
Revolving in his Thought thy doubtful Fate;
In wasting Pangs he lingred out the Day,
In Sighs he pass'd the restless Night away;
Oft to High Heav'n his ardent Vows addrest,
To spare that Life in which his own was blest;
To save from cruel Death such lovely Charms,
And give Emilia to her Lover's Arms.

So pray'd th' enamour'd Youth, nor pray'd in vain,
Thy Life and his Repose restor'd again

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With Joy he saw, — such as till that blest Hour
Had never fill'd his ravish'd Soul before!

Oh had the Muse the softly-moving Art,
To speak the Transports of his tender Heart;
With Pleasure shouldst thou read, and smiling see,
How much his every Thought is fix'd on thee!

Were I the Subject World's unrival'd Lord,
By purpled Slaves with servile Dread ador'd;
Or were I Monarch o'er a willing Land,
Where Love and Duty gave the High Command;
The Joys (depriv'd of thee) a Throne could give,
Were in magnificent Despair to live!
To wear conceal'd Distress within my Breast,
And blessing all, to be my self unblest.

Well pleas'd with Thee thro' Desarts could I str
And search in pathless Wilds my doubtful Way;

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Thro' dreary Wastes delighted could I rove,
Nor think of Danger, while inspir'd by Love:
Thy lovely Sight would every Pain allay,
And ease the Labours of the toilsome Day.

With thee, tho' set beneath the scorching Line,
Where unallay'd the burning Splendors shine;
Tho' on my Brow the Beams collected beat,
I'd bear the Noon-Day Gleam, the glowing Heat,
Thy Presence should the dreadful March beguile,
At thy Approach the barren Desart smile;
Around thy Steps the cooling Zephyrs play,
And cheek the Ardors of the Sultry Day.

Or with Emilia plac'd beneath the Pole
Where distant Suns their useless Courses roll;
Where Chrystal Rocks reflect a mimic Light,
And the Day shines uncomfortably bright;
Where the bleak Eye no friendly Verdure chears,
But one eternal Mass of Ice appears;

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Where half the Year unrival'd Darkness reigns,
And folds in gloomy Night the frozen Plains;
Possess'd of Thee, I would not once complain,
Endure the Cold, nor feel a Thought of Pain;
Thy Charms would chase the guilty Shades away,
And those bright Eyes create a milder Day.

Blest in thy Constancy and tender Love,
Far from the faithless World would I remove;
With thee explore some lonely soft Retreat,
And fix for ever in the peaceful Seat.
There all-contented in our humble Cell,
Far from Life's busy Cares sequester'd dwell:
Where, after Years in fond Endearments past,
Still like thy Goodness, should my Passion last:
When on thy Cheeks the Roses sate no more,
Still would I gaze, as fondly as before;
Still keep unchang'd, the generous, faithful Flame,
My Breast unalter'd, and its Warmth the same:

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With new Delight survey thy better Charms,
And fold thee gently in my ravish'd Arms:
Still court the Mistress, while I lov'd the Wife,
And keep my Passion till I lost my Life.

Such as thou art, — such should that Passion be;
Gay as thy Wit, and as thy Temper free;
True as your Heart, engaging as your Grace,
Soft as your Air, and lovely as your Face;
By Time improv'd it should become more Strong,
And fix'd upon your Virtue, last as long.

University of Virginia Library

To Emilia on her Recovery

EPISTLE. I.