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20

ODE.

[Hard by the Scenes of Cruel Fate]

I

Hard by the Scenes of Cruel Fate
The neighb'ring Groves o're-spreading boughs,
The discontented Cælia sate
Bewailing her unhappy Joys:
Ah faithless Swain, she cry'd, have I
So Lov'd you then!
Melting my Soul in Ecstasie,
A Passion I ne're thought could die.
Ah faithless Man!

II

How vain then are the sweets of Love?
How weak the pleasure it allows?
Since disregarded are above,
False Oaths and broken vows.
A thousand times he swore by Jove
He'd Love me still:
21

He call'd upon the Powers above,
And all the Deities of Love,
To prove his skill.

III

Then gently thus he says, my Dear,
Thou that excell'st the Paphian Queen,
E're I untrue can prove, the Year
In lasting Frosts shall still be seen.
Yet he's untrue, while Cælia dies
By base despair:
With moans she rends the yielding Skies,
Mixing her undistinguish'd sighs
With common Air.

IV

Ah think, Ingrate! upon the Plain,
The pleasure we, once happy, had;
When thou wer't stil'd, the Lovely Swain,
And I was call'd the Beauteous Maid,
When after Death you shall repair,
The Shades to see,
Amongst the Troops of all the Fair,
And Lovers Ghosts, you'll find none there
That lov'd like me.
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