 | The poems of Dr. Yalden |  |
TO HIS PERJURED MISTRESS.
Nox erat, & cœlo fulgebat Luna sereno, &c.
It was one evening, when the rising Moon
Amidst her train of stars distinctly shone;
Serene and calm was the inviting night,
And Heaven appear'd in all its lustre bright;
When you, Neæra, you, my perjur'd fair,
Did, to abuse the gods and me, prepare.
'Twas then you swore—remember, faithless maid,
With what endearing arts you then betray'd:
Remember all the tender things that past,
When round my neck your willing arms were cast.
The circling ivys, when the oaks they join,
Seem loose, and coy, to those fond arms of thine.
Amidst her train of stars distinctly shone;
Serene and calm was the inviting night,
And Heaven appear'd in all its lustre bright;
When you, Neæra, you, my perjur'd fair,
Did, to abuse the gods and me, prepare.
'Twas then you swore—remember, faithless maid,
With what endearing arts you then betray'd:
Remember all the tender things that past,
When round my neck your willing arms were cast.
The circling ivys, when the oaks they join,
Seem loose, and coy, to those fond arms of thine.
“Believe,” you cry'd, “this solemn vow believe,
The noblest pledge that Love and I can give;
Or, if there's ought more sacred here below,
Let that confirm my oath to Heaven and you.
If e'er my breast a guilty flame receives,
Or covets joys but what thy presence gives;
May every injur'd power assert thy cause,
And Love avenge his violated laws:
While cruel beasts of prey infest the plain,
And tempests rage upon the faithless main;
While sighs and tears shall listening virgins move;
So long, ye powers, will fond Neæra love.”
The noblest pledge that Love and I can give;
Or, if there's ought more sacred here below,
Let that confirm my oath to Heaven and you.
If e'er my breast a guilty flame receives,
Or covets joys but what thy presence gives;
May every injur'd power assert thy cause,
And Love avenge his violated laws:
While cruel beasts of prey infest the plain,
And tempests rage upon the faithless main;
While sighs and tears shall listening virgins move;
So long, ye powers, will fond Neæra love.”
Ah, faithless charmer, lovely perjur'd maid!
Are thus my vows and generous flame repaid?
Repeated slights I have too tamely bore,
Still doated on, and still been wrong'd the more.
Why do I listen to that Syren's voice,
Love ev'n thy crimes, and fly to guilty joys?
Thy fatal eyes my best resolves betray,
My fury melts in soft desires away:
Each look, each glance, for all thy crimes atone,
Elude my rage, and I'm again undone.
Are thus my vows and generous flame repaid?
Repeated slights I have too tamely bore,
Still doated on, and still been wrong'd the more.
Why do I listen to that Syren's voice,
Love ev'n thy crimes, and fly to guilty joys?
Thy fatal eyes my best resolves betray,
My fury melts in soft desires away:
Each look, each glance, for all thy crimes atone,
Elude my rage, and I'm again undone.
But if my injur'd soul dares yet be brave,
Unless I'm fond of shame, confirm'd a slave,
I will be deaf to that enchanting tongue,
Nor on thy beauties gaze away my wrong.
At length I'll loath each prostituted grace,
Nor court the leavings of a cloy'd embrace;
But show, with manly rage, my soul's above
The cold returns of thy exhausted love.
Then thou shalt justly mourn at my disdain,
Find all thy arts and all thy charms in vain:
Shalt mourn, whilst I, with nobler flames, pursue
Some nymph as fair, though not unjust, as you;
Whose wit and beauty shall like thine excel,
But far surpass in truth, and loving well.
Unless I'm fond of shame, confirm'd a slave,
I will be deaf to that enchanting tongue,
Nor on thy beauties gaze away my wrong.
At length I'll loath each prostituted grace,
Nor court the leavings of a cloy'd embrace;
But show, with manly rage, my soul's above
The cold returns of thy exhausted love.
Then thou shalt justly mourn at my disdain,
Find all thy arts and all thy charms in vain:
Shalt mourn, whilst I, with nobler flames, pursue
Some nymph as fair, though not unjust, as you;
Whose wit and beauty shall like thine excel,
But far surpass in truth, and loving well.
But wretched thou, whoe'er my rival art,
That fondly boasts an empire o'er her heart;
Thou that enjoy'st the fair inconstant prize,
And vainly triumph'st with my victories;
Unenvy'd now, o'er all her beauties rove,
Enjoy thy ruin, and Neæra's love:
Though wealth and honours grace thy nobler birth,
To bribe her love, and fix a wandering faith;
Though every grace and every virtue join,
T' enrich thy mind, and make thy form divine:
Yet, blest with endless charms, too soon you'll prove
The treacheries of false Neæra's love.
Lost and abandon'd by th' ungrateful fair,
Like me you'll love, be injur'd and despair.
When left th' unhappy object of her scorn,
Then shall I smile to see the victor mourn,
Laugh at thy fate, and triumph in my turn.
That fondly boasts an empire o'er her heart;
Thou that enjoy'st the fair inconstant prize,
And vainly triumph'st with my victories;
Unenvy'd now, o'er all her beauties rove,
Enjoy thy ruin, and Neæra's love:
Though wealth and honours grace thy nobler birth,
To bribe her love, and fix a wandering faith;
Though every grace and every virtue join,
T' enrich thy mind, and make thy form divine:
Yet, blest with endless charms, too soon you'll prove
The treacheries of false Neæra's love.
Lost and abandon'd by th' ungrateful fair,
Like me you'll love, be injur'd and despair.
When left th' unhappy object of her scorn,
Then shall I smile to see the victor mourn,
Laugh at thy fate, and triumph in my turn.
| The poems of Dr. Yalden | |