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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| 4. | ELEGY the Fourth. To Bellamira. |
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 | Mr. Cooke's Original Poems |  |
153
ELEGY the Fourth. To Bellamira.
What Language can I chuse, what pow'rful Strains,
To the false Fair, when injur'd Love complains!
While my fond Heart forbids the vengeful Lay,
Honour recalls the Heart that pants to stray.
To the false Fair, when injur'd Love complains!
While my fond Heart forbids the vengeful Lay,
Honour recalls the Heart that pants to stray.
O! Bellamira, once my fairest Flow'r,
Whose Love was all I ask'd, was all thy Dow'r,
Call to Remembrance thy repeated Vow,
In this black Moment of thy Falsehood, now.
How many Days are conscious of our Flame!
What Nights have witness'd to the perjur'd Dame!
How oft' in gentle Murm'rings hast thou cry'd,
No Time, no Fortune, shall our Loves divide,
The Eye of Day shall be disrob'd of Light,
And all to come be one eternal Night,
The Face of Beauty shall no longer be,
'E're I, be Witness Heav'n, am false to thee.
Fall from your Throne of Light, great Prince of Day,
And all ye glitt'ring Orbs dissolve away;
Give to the faithless Nymph, just Heav'n, her Due,
To Bellamira, now no longer true.
Whose Love was all I ask'd, was all thy Dow'r,
Call to Remembrance thy repeated Vow,
In this black Moment of thy Falsehood, now.
How many Days are conscious of our Flame!
What Nights have witness'd to the perjur'd Dame!
How oft' in gentle Murm'rings hast thou cry'd,
No Time, no Fortune, shall our Loves divide,
The Eye of Day shall be disrob'd of Light,
And all to come be one eternal Night,
The Face of Beauty shall no longer be,
'E're I, be Witness Heav'n, am false to thee.
154
And all ye glitt'ring Orbs dissolve away;
Give to the faithless Nymph, just Heav'n, her Due,
To Bellamira, now no longer true.
O! Bellamira, how my Heart complains
Of broken Vows, and unregarded Pains!
When on thy panting Breast I pass'd the Day,
The Hours were joyful all, and all was gay;
But now thy Absence, perjur'd Charmer, gives
Thy Lover Cause to curse, because he lives.
Of broken Vows, and unregarded Pains!
When on thy panting Breast I pass'd the Day,
The Hours were joyful all, and all was gay;
But now thy Absence, perjur'd Charmer, gives
Thy Lover Cause to curse, because he lives.
E'en now what Numbers can express the Smart,
What the dire Anguish of my bleeding Heart!
E'en now I see, the Source of all my Pain,
On thy soft Bosom lay'd the happyer Swain!
I see him now, in Joys too fierce to last,
Ranging the Paths of Love which I have pass'd:
With glowing Kisses he salutes thine Eyes,
Thence to thy Breast descends where Lillys rise;
Thence wand'ring to thy Cheek, with Blushes spread,
He on thy Rose imprints a deeper Red:
On thy dear Lips he feasts, where Cupids play,
And where transporting breathes the Breath of May:
Behold he revels o'er thy panting Breast!
How my Soul sickens when I paint the Rest!
This Praise, this Censure, to the Nymph is due,
To Bellamira, now no longer true.
What the dire Anguish of my bleeding Heart!
E'en now I see, the Source of all my Pain,
On thy soft Bosom lay'd the happyer Swain!
I see him now, in Joys too fierce to last,
Ranging the Paths of Love which I have pass'd:
With glowing Kisses he salutes thine Eyes,
Thence to thy Breast descends where Lillys rise;
Thence wand'ring to thy Cheek, with Blushes spread,
He on thy Rose imprints a deeper Red:
On thy dear Lips he feasts, where Cupids play,
And where transporting breathes the Breath of May:
Behold he revels o'er thy panting Breast!
How my Soul sickens when I paint the Rest!
155
To Bellamira, now no longer true.
Say, dear Deceiver, what ill-fated Youth
Like me prefers his ardent Vows of Truth?
Say for what Wretch you practice, to beguile,
The Look alluring, and attractive Smile,
Who, while he sees thy fair angelic Form,
Blesses the Calm, and never dreads a Storm?
Unhappy Youth, if into Fate I see,
What Hours of Sorrow are reserv'd for thee,
When the false Nymph, now in Appearance true,
With cold Indiff'rence shall thy Presence view!
How will you curse the Change, how curse the Day
In which you gaz'd your lovesick Heart away!
I know what Tortures shall 'e'relong be thine;
For well I weigh them by the Weight of mine.
Like me prefers his ardent Vows of Truth?
Say for what Wretch you practice, to beguile,
The Look alluring, and attractive Smile,
Who, while he sees thy fair angelic Form,
Blesses the Calm, and never dreads a Storm?
Unhappy Youth, if into Fate I see,
What Hours of Sorrow are reserv'd for thee,
When the false Nymph, now in Appearance true,
With cold Indiff'rence shall thy Presence view!
How will you curse the Change, how curse the Day
In which you gaz'd your lovesick Heart away!
I know what Tortures shall 'e'relong be thine;
For well I weigh them by the Weight of mine.
O! Bellamira, tho no Tongue can tell
What Pains I suffer when I say farewel,
Yet, since thy Falsehood tells me we must part,
Farewel, tho with that Word I tend my Heart.
The Muse no more shall search the Meads and Fields,
And rifle ev'ry Flow'r the Garden yields,
To the rich Tree that blooms in Java's Grove,
To Syrian Pow'rs of Bliss, no more shall rove,
No more shall ransack ev'ry Flow'r and Tree,
And sum up all their Sweets, false Fair, in thee.
O! Love adieu, adieu, delusive Dream,
Farewel my morning and my ev'ning Theme:
My once belov'd, my now belov'd, adieu,
O! Bellamira, now no longer true.
What Pains I suffer when I say farewel,
Yet, since thy Falsehood tells me we must part,
Farewel, tho with that Word I tend my Heart.
The Muse no more shall search the Meads and Fields,
And rifle ev'ry Flow'r the Garden yields,
To the rich Tree that blooms in Java's Grove,
To Syrian Pow'rs of Bliss, no more shall rove,
156
And sum up all their Sweets, false Fair, in thee.
O! Love adieu, adieu, delusive Dream,
Farewel my morning and my ev'ning Theme:
My once belov'd, my now belov'd, adieu,
O! Bellamira, now no longer true.
| Mr. Cooke's Original Poems | |