The Fair Circassian, A Dramatic Performance Done from the Original By a Gentleman-Commoner of Oxford. The Second Edition Corrected. To which are added Several Occasional Poems. By the same Author [i.e. Samuel Croxall] |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. | CANTO III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
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 | The Fair Circassian, A Dramatic Performance |  |
11
CANTO III.
SHE.
The busy World is husht in silent Night,
The Silver Moon displays her paler Light;
When sleepless on my Bed I lie alone,
For ah! the Partner of my Soul is gone.
In vain I send my searching Hands around,
My lovely Wanderer is no where found.
Inward I grieve, and with confused Haste
My Mantle o'er my Shoulders slightly cast;
Then thro' the City run, with eager Pace,
And seek my Fugitive from Place to Place.
Thro' ev'ry spacious Way, thro' ev'ry Street,
Officiously I ply my busy Feet.
The nightly Watch I meet, and thus enquire,
Saw You the Object of my Soul's Desire?
They knew not of Him: Scarce from thence I past,
But strait I found and held my Charmer fast.
Around his Neck my longing Arms I flung,
Flew to his Lips, and on his Beauties hung:
Then to my Mother's House my Captive led,
And fondly drew him to the genial Bed.
The Silver Moon displays her paler Light;
When sleepless on my Bed I lie alone,
For ah! the Partner of my Soul is gone.
In vain I send my searching Hands around,
My lovely Wanderer is no where found.
Inward I grieve, and with confused Haste
My Mantle o'er my Shoulders slightly cast;
Then thro' the City run, with eager Pace,
And seek my Fugitive from Place to Place.
Thro' ev'ry spacious Way, thro' ev'ry Street,
Officiously I ply my busy Feet.
The nightly Watch I meet, and thus enquire,
Saw You the Object of my Soul's Desire?
They knew not of Him: Scarce from thence I past,
But strait I found and held my Charmer fast.
Around his Neck my longing Arms I flung,
Flew to his Lips, and on his Beauties hung:
Then to my Mother's House my Captive led,
And fondly drew him to the genial Bed.
Ye Daughters of the Land pass gently by,
Behold my Love, but with a silent Eye:
I charge You, by the Hinds, the Forest Roes,
Not to disturb Him in his soft Repose.
Behold my Love, but with a silent Eye:
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Not to disturb Him in his soft Repose.
See! from the secret Bow'r of Love He comes,
The ambient Air is fill'd with his Perfumes;
Where-e'er He goes, He breaths a spicy Breeze,
And wafts ambrosial Fragrance thro' the Trees.
The ambient Air is fill'd with his Perfumes;
Where-e'er He goes, He breaths a spicy Breeze,
And wafts ambrosial Fragrance thro' the Trees.
Behold his Bed! the Guards around it stand,
Threescore, the stoutest Sons of all the Land:
Their valiant Breasts are stampt with many a Scar,
At Home rever'd, and terrible in War:
Each on his Thigh a mighty Sabre wears,
To free the Night from false alarming Fears.
Pillars, with silver Cornice wrought above,
Whose Base is Gold, sustain the rich Alcove:
Sweet Woods of Lebanon the Frame compose,
The lofty Canopy with Purple glows:
The Middle, pav'd with downy Love, invites
The Virgin Nymphs to taste it's soft Delights.
Threescore, the stoutest Sons of all the Land:
Their valiant Breasts are stampt with many a Scar,
At Home rever'd, and terrible in War:
Each on his Thigh a mighty Sabre wears,
To free the Night from false alarming Fears.
Pillars, with silver Cornice wrought above,
Whose Base is Gold, sustain the rich Alcove:
Sweet Woods of Lebanon the Frame compose,
The lofty Canopy with Purple glows:
The Middle, pav'd with downy Love, invites
The Virgin Nymphs to taste it's soft Delights.
Approach, fond Maids, and see my lovely King
Crown'd with the Beauties of the gawdy Spring,
The Garland, his indulgent Mother wove,
Against the Bridal Day, the Festival of Love.
Crown'd with the Beauties of the gawdy Spring,
The Garland, his indulgent Mother wove,
Against the Bridal Day, the Festival of Love.
| The Fair Circassian, A Dramatic Performance | |