Eidyllia or, miscellaneous poems; On losing Milton: an Ode. To Isabella: an Ode. The Fair Matron: an Ode. Virtue's Expostulation: an Ode. To Adversity: an Ode. Philocles: a Monody. The Muses triumphant over Venus: a Tale. With a hint to the British Poets. By the Author of Animadversions upon the Reverend Doctor Brown's three essays on the Characteristicks; and of a Criticism on the late Reverend Mr Holland's Sermons [by Robert Colvill] |
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To the blooming Isabella:
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 | Eidyllia |  |
To the blooming Isabella:
An ODE.
Cloe you know, have heard her talk.
I'll tell you what she thinks, my Dear.
I'll tell you what she thinks, my Dear.
Oh! for the man, deserves my love:
Me, like Queen Juno who adores,
Like Venus, in a rapture eyes.
His fixed gaze, or downward look,
Or starting wildness speaks desire.
Yet fears t'approach; or at my feet
His passion pleads, and in my eye
Like trembling prisoner seeks his fate.
I deign a smile. Intranc'd in love
He rivals Jove in Juno's arms.
I frown. He lightning-blasted shrinks.
My horrors drive his soul aghast.
Again I smile. He thanks his Stars,
And me his Goddess for the grace.
I on the rack of my disdain
May torture him a thousand times:
As oft he whines, and vows, and prays,
And readmitted thinks me kind.
Me, like Queen Juno who adores,
Like Venus, in a rapture eyes.
His fixed gaze, or downward look,
Or starting wildness speaks desire.
Yet fears t'approach; or at my feet
His passion pleads, and in my eye
Like trembling prisoner seeks his fate.
I deign a smile. Intranc'd in love
He rivals Jove in Juno's arms.
I frown. He lightning-blasted shrinks.
My horrors drive his soul aghast.
Again I smile. He thanks his Stars,
And me his Goddess for the grace.
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May torture him a thousand times:
As oft he whines, and vows, and prays,
And readmitted thinks me kind.
Him would I love: o'er him wou'd rule,
As, Juno! thou the heart of Jove.
Such husband, oh! dear Hymen! give.
Nay do. And soon. Or I despair.
As, Juno! thou the heart of Jove.
Such husband, oh! dear Hymen! give.
Nay do. And soon. Or I despair.
Let her despair, and warning be
To you, my blooming Isabel!
In beauty's sunshine as you sail,
All gay and pleasant! to beware
The rocks and shelves of hated pride.
To you, my blooming Isabel!
In beauty's sunshine as you sail,
All gay and pleasant! to beware
The rocks and shelves of hated pride.
| Eidyllia | |