The tragedy of Sophonisba

Come, gentle Venus! and asswage
A warring world, a bleeding age.
For nature lives beneath thy ray,
The wintry tempests haste away,
A lucid calm invests the sea,
Thy native deep is full of thee;
And flowering earth, where'er you fly,
Is all o'er spring, all fun the sky.
A genial spirit warms the breeze;
Unseen, among the blooming trees,
The feather'd lovers tune their throat,
The desart growls a soften'd note,
Glad o'er the meads the cattle bound,
And love and harmony go round.

But chief, into the human heart
You strike the dear delicious dart;
You teach us pleasing pangs to know,
To languish in luxurious woe,
To feel the generous passions rise,
Grow good by gazing, mild by sighs;
Each happy moment to improve,
And fill the perfect year with love.

Come, thou delight of heaven and earth!
To whom all creatures owe their birth;
Oh come, red-smiling! tender, come!
And yet prevent our final doom.
For long the furious god of war
Has crush'd us with his iron car,
Has rag'd along our ruin'd plains,
Has curs'd them with his cruel stains,
Has clos'd our youth in endless sleep,
And made the widow'd virgin weep.

Now let him feel thy wonted charms;
Oh take him to thy twining arms!
And, while thy bosom heaves on his,
While deep he prints the humid kiss,
Ah then! his stormy heart controul,
And sigh thy self into his soul.

Thy son too, Cupid, we implore,
To leave the green Idalian shore;
Be he, sweet god! our only foe;
Long let him draw the twanging bow,
Transfix us with his golden darts,
Pour all his quiver on our hearts,
With gentler anguish make us sigh,
And teach us sweeter deaths to die.

University of Virginia Library