 | Love triumphant |  |
56
The Bashful SHEPHERD:
From GUARINI.
I
Why does my Timorous Soul start back,And meanly-fly away,
Whene're I gaze on CELIA's Charms,
Which far out-shine the Day?
II
Why does my Tongue its Motion lose,Which should my Pains reveal?
Why, when so warm a Sun is near,
Does my Heart's Blood congeal?
III
What is't such Terror can create,So much thy Soul surprize?—
Has CELIA frown'd, and hast Thou felt
The Lightning of Her Eyes?
IV
'Tis so—But Thou, my Coward Heart,Unjustly dost complain:
For Such a Death should be esteem'd
A Pleasure, not a Pain.
| Love triumphant | |