University of Virginia Library

On CELIA departing.

I

Too soon, alas! she takes her Flight,
And with Her all we prize;
The flow'ry Lawns no more delight,
No more the shady Trees invite,
Bereft of Celia's Eyes.

16

II

The silent Streams that u'sd to flow,
Soft gliding thro' the Plain,
In troubled Murmurs speak their Woe,
And by their restless Current show
They seek the Fair in vain.

III

Soon as the cheerless Mornings rise,
And streaks of Day appear,
Anxious, I curse th' enlighten'd Skies,
Which only serve to show my eyes,
That Celia is not here.

IV

Since Thou, bright cruel Maid, art fled,
No Marks of Joy are seen;
No more the Roses glow with red,
No more the Lilly lifts it's head,
Nor are the Valleys green.

V

So quits the Sun the western sky,
So we his Absence mourn:
Like him, You gladden every eye;
And as too soon (like him) you fly,
Like him again return.