University of Virginia Library

SECOND Mad SONG.

Gods! I can never this endure,
Death alone must be my Cure:
I groan, I sink beneath the Weight
Of Celia's cruel—causeless Hate.
Why was she made so fair,
Why are her Eyes so bright?
They kill me with Despair,
And yet attract my Sight.
In her Eyes a thousand Stars
Center their Brightness;
In her Face a thousand Charms
Display their Sweetness.
But she is as proud as Juno's haughty self,
Ah! 'tis a proud, disdainful,—charming Elf!
Whoe'er becomes a Victim to her Eyes,
She makes his bleeding Heart a Sacrifice.
While on a downy Bed
Of mossy Grass I lay my love-sick Head,
And seek for soft Repose,
Her Angel Form around me flies,
Awakes my Soul, forbids mine Eyes
Their falling Lids to close.
Then to the limpid Stream
With eager haste I fly,
And 'midst the Waters plunge,
With sure intent to die.
When, lo! some Wretch, by evil Gods design'd
To lengthen out the Torments of Mankind,
With cursed Friendship drags me thence again,
And makes me live, but to endure more Pain.
But I have found a way,
That shall her Scorn repay;
I'll leave this false imaginary Light,
And seek the dismal Shades of Night.
With Goblins and Faries
I'll dance the Canaries,
And Dæmons all round in a Ring;
With Witches I'll fly
Beneath the cold Sky,
And with the Screech-Owl will I sing.
My Love, alas! is dead and gone,
She's dead and gone to me:
And now my Senses they are flown,
I have my Liberty.