 | Rinaldo and Armida |  |
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EPILOGUE.
To some fine Sparks methinks in yonder Rows,The Brave Rinaldo, a Barbarian shows:
His leaving for a Camp his Amorous Care,
Is a rude thing they'l ne're Forgive they swear:
They ne're could think so barb'rously they say,
No, that Young Hero's meer Reverse are they:
On his young Cheeks Love's Charming power abides,
While in his Manly Breast the God of War resides:
In their soft Hearts, Ten Thousand Loves have places;
But Wars stern God dwells on their dreadful Faces:
While the late War in all it's fury Rag'd,
They ne're with Gauls in Belgian Plains Engag'd:
Nor Towring Fame on Alpine Mountains sought,
But here with Frightful looks, while others Fought,
They guarded the weak places they had Bought.
But you, who to your Country and your Fame,
Great Souls, still sacrific'd your Amorous Flame:
Who in each Spring, the season of Desire,
Left the Bright Dames, that set your Souls on Fire;
To follow William, forcing France to yeild,
And hunting Glory thro' the Dusty Field:
You sure with Pleasure should Rinaldo view,
Who less deserves Immortal Fame than you:
He flew from a polluted Beauties Arms,
And from the Influence of malignant Charms.
You from such Beauty and such Vertue flew,
As might enamour Gods as well as you.
And you Bright Nymphs—
Whom for a time the Noble Youths forsook,
With Pleasure may on Lost Armida Look:
Since by her weakness, your High merit shines;
And to your praise, the rudest Hearts inclines.
She to retain her Hero in her Arms,
The utmost force exerted of her Charms:
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Your Looks rebated and relax'd your sway,
By which you force ev'n Savages t'obey.
Your Countrey's happiness you first design'd,
To that the Darlings of your Souls resign'd,
And sent them Death, or Victory to find.
O Roman Virtue! which it's tryal past,
Well merits the Reward it meets at last:
For since with Peace the Noble Youths return'd,
They for such worth with Double fires have burn'd.
May long Fruition but foment the Flames,
And be your Loves Immortal as your Fames.
| Rinaldo and Armida | |