 | Dido |  |
SCENE XI.
Selenealone.
O fond Selene! O unhappy maid!
For whom dost thou indulge a hopeless flame?
My peace is lost!—But who, alas! compels me
To sigh in vain?—Then choose some other heart
More grateful to thy vows, some other lover
Worthy thy love—O Heaven! it is not ours
To fix the choice—nor is it grace, nor beauty,
Nor inbred worth, nor valour that awakes
The seeds of love—ah! no—we find the worthless
Too often priz'd, while, partial to its choice,
The blindfold passion forms ideal charms.
273
Each lover thinks that secret charms
Must give him first the soft alarms,
That merit only points the arms
That pierce the lover's heart.
But oft no charms or merits fire;
'Tis but some start of wild desire,
That thus the bosom can inspire,
Which blindly hugs the dart.
Must give him first the soft alarms,
That merit only points the arms
That pierce the lover's heart.
But oft no charms or merits fire;
'Tis but some start of wild desire,
That thus the bosom can inspire,
Which blindly hugs the dart.
[Exit.
| Dido | |