A collection of poems on various subjects including the theatre, a didactic essay; in the course of which are pointed out, the rocks and shoals to which deluded adventurers are inevitably exposed. Ornamented with cuts and illustrated with notes, original letters and curious incidental anecdotes [by Samuel Whyte] |
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| IV. | ELEGY IV. EXPOSTULATION; TO AN UNFAITHFUL MISTRESS. |
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 | A collection of poems on various subjects |  |
122
ELEGY IV. EXPOSTULATION; TO AN UNFAITHFUL MISTRESS.
And is there then no generous pity left!
No truth! no justice! in the female breast?
Is that frail sex of honour quite bereft?
Their vows of love and constancy a jest?
No truth! no justice! in the female breast?
Is that frail sex of honour quite bereft?
Their vows of love and constancy a jest?
And generous pity can they ever claim,
Who truth and justice show they disregard?
Dare they appeal to honour's sacred name,
Who with base falshood constancy reward?
Who truth and justice show they disregard?
Dare they appeal to honour's sacred name,
Who with base falshood constancy reward?
Oh, memory! memory! why wilt thou obtrude
Thy cheerless records on my grief-worn soul?
Oh, give me peace! Oh, teach me to exclude
My bitter wrongs! and my wild thoughts controul!
Thy cheerless records on my grief-worn soul?
Oh, give me peace! Oh, teach me to exclude
My bitter wrongs! and my wild thoughts controul!
Was't not enough?—good gods! my heart will break!
What could so fell a destiny provoke?
Must she a part in my destruction take,
She, so ador'd! must she too aid the stroke?
What could so fell a destiny provoke?
Must she a part in my destruction take,
She, so ador'd! must she too aid the stroke?
123
Has she not listen'd to my tender tale,
And drank the music of my love-tun'd lyre?
Has she not met me smiling in the vale,
And now—Oh, can she with my foes conspire?
And drank the music of my love-tun'd lyre?
Has she not met me smiling in the vale,
And now—Oh, can she with my foes conspire?
A common lot I could with patience bear,
And grievous ills have suffer'd unsubdu'd;
But when a bosom'd traitor stabs—Oh, there!
There pierce the thorns of foul ingratitude.
And grievous ills have suffer'd unsubdu'd;
But when a bosom'd traitor stabs—Oh, there!
There pierce the thorns of foul ingratitude.
See here, ill counsel'd, dear, obdurate maid!
And read unblushing, if thou can'st, the strain
Writ by that hand; by that fair hand convey'd—
What needed this? too strong before the chain.
And read unblushing, if thou can'st, the strain
Writ by that hand; by that fair hand convey'd—
What needed this? too strong before the chain.
‘Oft my dear friend has sought my heart to move,
‘And if I lov'd him urg'd me to declare;
‘Not to suppose it would injurious prove,
‘And now my pen shall dissipate his care.
‘And if I lov'd him urg'd me to declare;
‘Not to suppose it would injurious prove,
‘And now my pen shall dissipate his care.
‘With gentle smiles I favour'd your request,
‘Well weigh'd its meaning and observ'd its scope;
‘Full well my conscious looks my soul express'd,
‘And conscious looks full well encourage hope.
‘Well weigh'd its meaning and observ'd its scope;
‘Full well my conscious looks my soul express'd,
‘And conscious looks full well encourage hope.
124
‘But spare me words—you could not misconceive,
‘What my past conduct must have plainly shown,
‘Nor justly ought, nor can you disbelieve
‘My fix'd attachment, fix'd on you alone.
‘What my past conduct must have plainly shown,
‘Nor justly ought, nor can you disbelieve
‘My fix'd attachment, fix'd on you alone.
‘Your fond addresses have I not allow'd?
‘Your warm endearments have I not return'd?
‘The promis'd nuptials have I not avow'd,
‘And for your sake all other offers scorn'd?
‘Your warm endearments have I not return'd?
‘The promis'd nuptials have I not avow'd,
‘And for your sake all other offers scorn'd?
‘No mother's tears, no father's stern command,
‘Nay that might rather interdict your plea,
‘Forc'd me to yield a cold reluctant hand;
‘You were my choice, and my election free.
‘Nay that might rather interdict your plea,
‘Forc'd me to yield a cold reluctant hand;
‘You were my choice, and my election free.
‘If then your love be founded on esteem,
‘Affection's only true and solid base,
‘Mine you no longer can precarious deem,
‘And to conviction let your doubts give place.’
‘Affection's only true and solid base,
‘Mine you no longer can precarious deem,
‘And to conviction let your doubts give place.’
Such the frank purport of thy artless page;
Artless I thought it, and sincere believ'd.
Beats there a heart such words might not engage?
Claims he not pity whom such words deceiv'd?
Artless I thought it, and sincere believ'd.
Beats there a heart such words might not engage?
Claims he not pity whom such words deceiv'd?
125
Oh, truth! Oh, justice! honour! thrice rever'd!
Still may I cherish and your influence find!
Still may the maid, at your tribunal clear'd,
Prove as she's lovely, generous, good and kind.
Still may I cherish and your influence find!
Still may the maid, at your tribunal clear'd,
Prove as she's lovely, generous, good and kind.
| A collection of poems on various subjects | |