« ZurückWeiter »
A N ELEGY.
BY THE REV. MR. GERRARD.
N o'ergrown wood my wandering fteps invade, With furface mantled in untrodden fnow; Dire haunt for none but favage monfters made, Where frofts defcend, and howling tempests blow.
Here, from the fearch of bufy mortals stray'd,
O my Aminta! dear distracting name!
Late all my comfort, all my fond delight; Still writhes my foul beneath it's torturing flame, Still thy pale image fills my aching fight!
When shall vain Memory flumber o'er her woes?
Again the accents faulter on my tongue;
Ye bitter fkies! upon the tale defcend;
Ye blafts, tho' rude your visits, lend an ear; Around, ye gentler oaks, your branches bend; And, as ye liften, drop an icy tear!
"Twas when the step with conscious pleasure roves,
Where round the shades the circling woodbines throng; When Flora wantons o'er th' enamell'd groves,
And feather'd choirs indulge the amorous fong:
Infpir'd by duteous love, I fondly ftray'd,
But, ah! in fmiles no more they met my fight,
Where my dire emblem!-a rapacious kite
Tore their soft limbs, and strew'd their plumes around.
The tear of pity stole into my eye;
While ruder paffions in their turn fucceed;
Forbid the victims unreveng'd to die,
And doom the author of their wrongs to bleed.
With hafty step, enrag'd, I homewards ran;
Curfe on my fpeed! th' unerring tube I brought;
Difaft'rous deed! irrevocable ill!
How fhall I tell the anguish of my fate! Teach me, remorseless monsters, not to feel, Inftruct me, fiends and furies, to relate!
Wrathful behind the guilty fhade I ftole,
I rais'd the tube-the clamorous woods refound
Too late I saw the idol of my foul,
Struck by my aim, fall fhrieking to the ground!
No other blifs her foul allow'd but me;
I ran; but O! too foon I found it true!
From her ftain'd breast life's crimson ftream'd apace ;
Gods! could I bear that fond reproachful look,
To fave a wretch that doom'd himself to bleed.
While I, distracted, prefs'd her in my arms,
Content beneath thy erring hand I die!
Our fates grew envious of a bliss so true; Then urge not thy diftrefs when low I lie, But in this breath receive my laft adieu!'
No more she spake, but droop'd her lily head!
And ask'd kind vengeance from the paffing gale.
Where flept your bolts, ye lingering lightnings fay!
Or why, too paffive Earth, didst thou delay!
Low in the duft the beauteous corse I plac❜d,
And bade the cypress mourn in filence near.
Oft as bright morn's all-fearching eye returns,
When, fpotlefs victim, fhall my form deca y !
IN ENGLAND, TO ZARA AT HIS FATHER'S COURT,
WRITTEN IN THE YEAR M DCC XLIX.
BY DR. DODD.
PRINCES, my fair, unfortunately great,
Born to the pompous vaffalage of state, Whene'er the publick calls, are doom'd to fly Domestick blifs, and break the private tie
Fame pays with empty breath the toils they bear,
For this alone I dar'd the roaring fea,
Yet more—for this I dar'd to part with thee!
Tho' Virtue's awful form my
Since love and duty point a different way?
Fix'd the dread voyage, and the day decreed,
That confcious palm, beneath whofe tow'ring fhade
And plann'd, of future years, the best employ ;
I caught thy fleeting foul, and gave thee mine!
O why recall'd to life and to defpair!
The dreadful fummons came, to part-and why?
as Zara kind-✨
If in fome diftant land my prince should find Some nymph more fair,' you cry'd, Mysterious doubt! which could at once impart Relief to mine, and anguifh to thy heart.