ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING ELEGY. AND darest thou then, insulting youth, demand A second spoil from love's impoverish'd store? Shall strains like thine a second kiss command? Thankless for one, because I gave no more! One lamp irradiates all yon starry heaven, Yet what bold wretch complains no more were given, Or doubts the blessing of each friendly ray? One timorous kiss, which multitudes might bode, At once thy sun and guiding star had proved, If while thy lips beneath its pressure glow'd, And thy tongue flatter'd, thou hadst truly loved. The flame which burns upon the virgin cheek, The rising sigh, half-utter'd, half-suppress'd, To him who fondly loves, will more than speak What wavering thoughts divide the' impassion'd breast. Such soft confusion could the Moor disarm, And his rough heart like Desdemona's move; But soon her easy weakness broke the charm, And ere her life she lost she lost his love. No-if I hate thee, wherefore should I press Ah! why too soon that anxious care reveal? A ready conquest oft the victor scorns; His laurels fade whose foe ere battle yields: No shout attends the warrior who returns To claim the palm of uncontested fields. But let thy soul each lawless wish disown While yet my hate or love is undeclaredPerhaps, ere many circling years are flown, Thou'lt think Eliza but a poor reward. For, ah! my kisses ne'er shall teem with art, My faithful bosom forms but one design: To study well the wife's, the mother's part, And learn to keep thee ere I make thee mine. ANONYMOUS. TO DELIA. WHAT Scenes of bliss my raptured fancy framed And earliest innocence enchants the heart. Now, fired by Pope and Virtue, leave the age Its fires shall warm me and its worth improve : Thy heart! above all envy and all pride, Firm as man's sense, and soft as woman's love. And you, O West! with her your partner dear, Whom social mirth and useful sense commend, With Learning's feast my drooping mind shall cheer, Glad to escape from love to such a friend. But why so long my weaker heart deceive? Ah! still I love in pride and reason's spite: No books, alas! my painful thoughts relieve, And, while I threat, this Elegy I write. HAMMOND. TO DELIA. IN THE MANNER OF OVID. O SAY, thou dear possessor of my breast! I scorn the beauties common eyes adore; And could I speak with eloquence and ease, And now (for more I never must pretend) Hear me not as thy lover, but thy friend: Thousands will fain thy little heart ensnare, For, without danger, none like thee are fair; But wisely choose who best deserves thy flame, So shall the choice itself become thy fame; Nor yet despise, though void of winning art, The plain and honest courtship of the heart: The skilful tongue in love's persuasive lore, Though less it feels, will please and flatter more, And, meanly learned in that guilty trade, HAMMOND, CYNTHIA. BENEATH an aged oak's embowering shade, Whose spreading arms with gray moss fringed were, Around whose trunk the clasping ivy stray'd, The whispering sedges waved along the shore. Here oft when Morn peep'd o'er the dusky hill, Here oft when Eve bedew'd the misty vale, Careless he laid him all beside the rill, And pour'd in strains like these his artless tale. Ah! would he say-and then a sigh would heave: Ah, Cynthia! sweeter than the breath of morn, Soft as the gentle breeze that fans at eve, Of thee bereft how shall I live forlorn? |