Juvenile poems on various subjects :: :: University of Virginia Library

The day was clos'd beneath the shade,
As pensive Celia sat,
For Damon mourn'd the lovely Maid,
And rail'd at envious fate.
Thus to the night she gave her woe,
While hush'd was all the wood,
Still were the winds, the streams ran slow,
And Silence list'ning stood.

2.

Ah! but in vain are tears and sighs,
In vain must Celia mourn,
From me the faithless Damon flies,
And leaves me but his scorn.
Why do the flatt'ring Shepherds say,
Who sees my beauty dies?
Why rob the Sovereign of the Day,
To deck those dreaded eyes?

3.

Nor are those arts to man confin'd,
The limpid streams deceive,
In the soft mirror charms I find,
And what I wish believe.
But what are all these boasted charms;
They cannot Damon move?
For glory now he leaves my arms,
And slights my proffer'd love.

[II. When in Celia's heav'nly Eye]

1.

When in Celia's heav'nly Eye
Soft inviting Love I spy,
Tho' you say 'tis all a cheat,
I must clasp the dear deceit.

2.

Why should I more knowledge gain,
When it only gives me pain?
If deceiv'd I'm still at rest,
In the sweet Delusion blest.

III.
To SYLVIA.

1.

Why seek you to know what your fond Damon feels,
Yet meet with derision what Passion reveals?
Thy bosom proud Sylvia ne'er could move,
Nor ever could feel the soft raptures of Love.

2.

When Damon would urge you with sighs, and with tears,
To pity his suff'rings, you laugh at his fears;
Thus cold, and thus cruel, those joys you'll ne'er find
Which virtue yields virtue in sympathy join'd.

3.

So some curious Image whose figure at most,
And beautiful outside is all it can boast,
By the Artist's kind hand all its beauties are drest,
And tho' mimicking Life is a Stone at the best.

4.

Then hear me, proud Sylvia, nor boast your bright charms,
Which ev'ry fond bosom so pow'rfully warms,
While thus like an image of life, but a show,
You 're sway'd by no Passion, no Pleasure you'll know.

5.

Accept the advice which I friendly would give,
Drive hence Affectation e'er wrinkles arrive;
Or like some maim'd statue, disdainful thrown by,
With rubbish and lumber unheeded you'll lie.

[IV. Young Thyrsis with sighs often tells me his Tale]

1.

Young Thyrsis with sighs often tells me his Tale,
And artfully strives o'er my heart to prevail,
He sings me love-songs as we trace thro' the Grove,
And on each fair Poplar hangs sonnets of love.
Tho' I often smile on him to soften his pain,
(For wit I would have to embellish my train)
I still put him off, for I have him so fast,
I know he with joy will accept me at last.

2.

Among the gay Tirbe that still flatter my pride,
There's Cloddy is handsome, and wealthy beside;
With such a gay partner more joys I can prove
Than to live in a Cottage with Thyrsis on love.
Tho' the Shepherd is gentle, yet blame me who can,
Since wealth, and not manners, 'tis now makes the man.
But should I fail here, and my hopes be all past,
Fond Thyrsis I know will accept me at last.

3.

Thus Delia enliven'd the grove with her strain,
When Thyrsis, the Shepherd, came over the plain;
Bright Chloris he led, whom he'd just made his bride,
Joy shone in their eyes, as they walk'd side by side;
She scorn'd each low cunning, nor wish'd to deceive,
But all her delight was sweet pleasure to give.
In wedlock she chose to tye the Swain fast,
For Shepherds will change if put off to the last.

[V. O come to Misonborough's grove]

1.

O come to Misonborough's grove,
Ye Nymphs and Swains away,
Where blooming Innocence and Love,
And Pleasure crown the day.

2.

Here dwells the Muse, here her bright Seat
Erects the lovely Maid,
From Noise and Show, a blest retreat,
She seeks the sylvan shade.

3.

Hence Myra, with that scornful air,
Nor frown within this grove,
Fell hate shall find no resting here,
'Tis sacred all to Love.

4.

And Chloe, on whose wanton breast
Lascivious breezes play,
'Tis Innocence that makes us blest,
And as the Season gay.

5.

Ye noisy Revellers retire,
Bear your loud laughter hence,
'Tis Virtue shall our songs inspire,
And Mirth without offence.

6.

The Queen of Beauty, all divine,
Here spreads her gentle reign,
See, all around, the graces shine,
Like Cynthia's silver train.

A pleasant Retreat, nigh Cape Fear, in North Carolina.

[VI. For Chloris long I sigh'd in vain]

1.

For Chloris long I sigh'd in vain,
Nor could her bosom move,
She met my vows with cold disdain,
And scorn return'd for Love.
At length, grown weary of her pride,
I left the haughty Maid,
Corinna's fetters now I try'd,
Who love for love repaid.

2.

With her the pleasing hours I waste,
With her such joys I prove,
As kindred Souls alone can taste,
When join'd in mutual Love.
Ye Shepherds here, nor slight my strain,
Fly, fly the scornful Fair,
Kind Nymphs you'll find to ease your pain,
And soften ev'ry care.

VII.
AMYNTOR.

RECITATIVE.

Long had Amyntor free from Love remain'd,
The God enrag'd to see his pow'r disdain'd,
Bent his best bow, and aiming at his breast
The fatal shaft, he thus the Swain addrest.

AIR.

Hear me, hear me senseless Rover,
Soon thou now shallt be a Lover,
Cupid will his pow'r maintain;
Haughty Delia shall enslave thee,
Thou who thus insulting brav'st me,
Shalt unpity'd drag the chain.

RECITATIVE.

He ceas'd, and quick he shot the pointed dart,
Far short it fell, nor reach'd Amyntor's heart;
The angry God was fill'd with vast surprize,
Abash'd he stood, while thus the Swain replies.

AIR.

Think not, Cupid, vain Deceiver,
I will own thy power ever,
Guarded from thy arts by Wine;
Haughty Beauty ne'er shall grieve me,
Bacchus still shall e'er relieve me,
All his rosy joys are mine;
All his rosy joys are mine.