 | The miscellaneous works (1739) |  |
145
Part of the third Scene of the third Act of PASTOR FIDO, translated.
Mirtillo.
Ungrateful nymph! thy too severe command,
To narrow bounds would limit those desires,
Whose vast extent scarce human thought can grasp.
To narrow bounds would limit those desires,
Whose vast extent scarce human thought can grasp.
That I have lov'd, and lov'd thee more than life,
If still thou doubt, the fields, the conscious groves,
The savage race can tell; and these hard rocks,
Soften'd by my complaints, can witness too.
If still thou doubt, the fields, the conscious groves,
The savage race can tell; and these hard rocks,
Soften'd by my complaints, can witness too.
Look on thy self, thy matchless beauty proves
The justice, truth, and grandeur of my flame.
Whate'er the earth, or azure skies can boast
Of excellence, 'tis all summ'd up in thee.
So high the spring of my unbounded passion,
'Tis nature, 'tis necessity—As flame
Ascends, as water sinks, as floats the air,
As rests the earth, as roll the circling spheres;
With such perpetual force, my eager soul,
In all its restless motion, tends to thee,
Is its superior bliss: and who would tear
My constant heart from thee, as well might change
Great nature's long establish'd laws, turn back
The shining planets from their ancient course,
And from its stedfast centre shake the world.
The justice, truth, and grandeur of my flame.
Whate'er the earth, or azure skies can boast
Of excellence, 'tis all summ'd up in thee.
So high the spring of my unbounded passion,
'Tis nature, 'tis necessity—As flame
Ascends, as water sinks, as floats the air,
As rests the earth, as roll the circling spheres;
With such perpetual force, my eager soul,
In all its restless motion, tends to thee,
Is its superior bliss: and who would tear
My constant heart from thee, as well might change
Great nature's long establish'd laws, turn back
146
And from its stedfast centre shake the world.
But since thy harsh commands enjoin my tongue,
In brief to tell the story of my pain;
If I must speak no more, my parting breath
Shall tell thee that I die a victim to thy scorn.
In brief to tell the story of my pain;
If I must speak no more, my parting breath
Shall tell thee that I die a victim to thy scorn.
| The miscellaneous works (1739) | |