SCENE VI.
Changes to an enclosed Lawn with a bower in the centre
ornamented with festoons of flowers. Enter
PHAON.
This is her bower; and this the time agreed.
Doris was ever punctual to the moment;
Nay even forewent it: should she fail me now,
My careless heart tells me it well could brook
A longer absence; lovely as she is,
And unenjoy'd, I feel already sated.
Ah, rapt'rous Sappho! wherefore did I leave thee!
Thine was a soul of fire. Others can love,
But not like thee: this Doris owns a passion,
But thou alone couldst feel it: Joy in her,
In thee was extacy. I left thy arms
To gain fresh taste for their superior charms.
The bee that roves round every field,
And sips the balm that each bestows,
For sweets, that common cowslips yield,
Resigns the nectar of the rose;
But, when the transient feast is o'er,
He seeks the rose he left behind,
And finds, in the forsaken flower,
Both nectar and ambrosia join'd.
But see where Doris comes: health to my fair one,
And love, and transport!
