 | Love triumphant |  |
57
To the Scornful CELIA.
From TASSO.
I
See, CELIA, how the Lovely ROSEBuds with the Dawning Light!
And, as the Day comes rowling on,
Looks doubly Gay, and Bright!
II
But when the Night begins to spreadHer Sable Horrors round;
See, how She fades, and drooping lies
All wither'd on the Ground!
III
No longer then with Killing FrownsTorment Your Faithful Swain;
No more, like a Coy Vestal, fly,
And wast Your Bloom in vain.
IV
Art Thou still Deaf?—Still with DisdainDost Thou behold my Sorrow?—
But know, tho' Thou art Fair to Day,
Sickness may blast Thy Charms To Morrow.
| Love triumphant | |