 | Miscellanies, in Verse and Prose |  |
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Horace, Epode IV. Imitated.
Yes! I remember my appointed part;But Verse comes lamely from a bleeding heart:
On Cupid, pow'rful God, the fault be laid;
And think it Love, not Sloth, that disobey'd.
Such hopeless love has frantic Wilks misled,
His vows unanswer'd, and his rimes unread;
Though still the Dreamer plays his desp'rate game;
And constant Brimmers to the Fair proclaim
The maudlin flights of his Romantic flame.
Nay, You, my Kinsman, are a Lover too;
But Seraphina's eyes can shine on You,
Inspire your lays, and gently warm your breast;
When present, pleas'd; when absent, not distress'd;
You from the Nymph a parting pledge can take,
And fondle Chloe for its Owner's sake.
O! lovely Maid! O! passion most benign!
Be thankful for your lot, but pity mine.
To me the pangs of slighted love are known;
In secret, pining; and in crouds, alone:
'Tis mine to utter plaints that none will hear;
Mine are the stifled sigh, and stealing tear;
While, doom'd to absence, and unpity'd pain,
I hug the bright, the dear Amynta's chain,
Fond to behold, despairing to obtain.
| Miscellanies, in Verse and Prose | |