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Where'er he moves, let love-join'd reverence rise,
And all mankind behold with Zara's eyes!
Thy breaft alone, when bounding o'er the waves
To Freedom's climes, from flavery and flaves;
Thy breaft alone the pleasing thought could frame
Of what I felt, when thy dear letters came :
A thousand times I held them to my breast,
A thoufand times my lips the paper prefs'd:
My full heart panted with a joy too strong,
And Oh, my prince!' dy'd fault'ring on my tongue;
Fainting, I funk, unequal to the strife,
And milder joys fuftain'd returning life.
Hope, fweet enchantrefs! round my love-fick head
Delightful scenes of blefs'd delufion spread.
Come, come, my prince! my charmer! hafte away;
• Come, come!' I cry'd, thy Zara blames thy stay.
For thee the fhrubs their richest sweets retain;
For thee new colours wait to paint the plain';
For thee cool breezes linger in the grove;
• The birds expect thee in the green alcove;
• Till thy return, the rills forget to fall,
Till thy return, the fun, the foul of all!He comes, my maids, in his meridian charms, • He comes refulgent to his Zara's arms!
With jocund fongs proclaim my love's return; • With jocund hearts his nuptial bed adorn!
Bright as the fun, yet gentle as the dove,
He comes, uniting majesty with love!"
Too foon, alas! the blefs'd delufion flies ;
Care fwells my breast, and forrow fills my eyes.
Ah! why do thy fond words fuggeft a fear;
Too vaft, too numerous, thofe already here!
Ah! why with doubts torment my bleeding breast,
Of feas which ftorms controul, and foes infeft!
My heart, in all this tedious abfence, knows
No thoughts but thofe of feas, and ftorms, and foes.
Each joyless morning, with the rifing fun, Quick to the ftrand my feet fpontaneous run:
Where, where's my prince! what tidings have ye brought!" Of each I met, with pleading tears I fought. In vain I fought; fome, conscious of my pain, With horrid filence pointed to the main. Some with a fneer the brutal thought exprefs'd, And plung'd the dagger of a barb'rous jeft. Day follow'd day, and still I wish'd the next, New hopes ftill flatter'd, and new doubts perplex'd; Day follow'd day, the wish'd to-morrow came, My hopes, doubts, fears, anxieties, the fame: At length- O Power Supreme! whoe'er thou art, Thy fhrine the fky, the fea, the earth, or heart; Since every clime, and all th' unbounded main, And hoftile barks, and ftorms, are thy domain, If faithful paffion can thy bounty move, ⚫ (And goodness fure must be the friend of love!) Safe to these arms my lovely prince restore, Safe to his Zara's arms, to part no more! O grant to virtue thy protecting care,
And grant thy love to love's availing pray'r!
Together then, and emulous to praise,
A flowery altar to thy name we'll raise ;
There, first and laft, on each returning day,
To thee our vows of gratitude we'll pay!'
Fool that I was, to all my comfort blind!
Why, when thou went'ft, did Zara stay behind ?
How could I fondly hope one joy to prove,
'Midft all the wild anxieties of love?
Had fate in other mould thy Zara form'd,
And my bold breaft in manly friendship warm'd,
How had I glow'd exulting at thy fide!
How all the shafts of adverse fate defy'd!
Or yet a woman, and not nerv'd for toil,
With thee, O had I turn'd a burning foil!
In the cold prifon had I lain with thee,
In love still happy, we had still been free;
Then fortune brav'd, had own'd fuperior might,
And pin'd with envy, while we forc'd delight.
Why shouldst thou bid thy love remember thee?
Thine all my thoughts have been, and still shall be.
Each night the cool favannahs have I fought,
And breath'd the fondness of enamour'd thought;
The curling breezes murmur'd as I figh'd,
And hoarfe, at diftance, roar'd my foe, the tide :
My breaft ftill haunted by a motley train,
Now doubts, now hopes prevail'd, now joy, now pain!
Now fix'd I ftand, my spirit fled to thine,
Nor note the time, nor fee the fun decline!
Now rouz'd I start, and wing'd with fear I run;
In vain, alas! for 'tis myself I fhun!
When kindly sleep it's lenient balm supply'd,
And gave that comfort waking thought deny'd.
Laft night-but why, ah Zara! why impart,
The fond, fond fancies of a love-fick heart!
Yet true delights on fancy's wings are brought,
And love's foft raptures realiz'd in thought-
Last night I faw-methinks I fee it now !—
Heaven's awful concave round thy Zara bow;
When fudden thence a flaming chariot flew,
Which earth receiv'd, and fix white courfers drew:
Then, quick tranfition, did thy Zara ride,
Borne to the chariot, wond'rous, by thy fide;
All glorious both, from clime to clime we flew,
Each happy clime with fweet furprize we view.
A thousand voices fung, All bliss betide
The prince of Lybia, and his faithful bride!'
"Tis done, 'tis done!' refounded through the skies, And quick aloft the car began to rife;
Ten thousand beauties crouded on my fight,
Ten thoufand glories beam'd a dazzling light.
My thoughts could bear no more, the vifion filed,
And wretched Zara view'd her lonely bed.
Come, fweet interpreter, and ease my foul;
Come to my bofom, and explain the whole.
Alas, my prince !-yet hold, my ftruggling breaft;
Sure we shall meet again, again be bless'd.
Hope all,' thou fay'ft, I live, and still am free ;'
O then prevent thofe hopes, and hafte to me!
Eafe all the doubts thy Zara's bosom knows,
And kindly stop the torrent of her woes.
But, that I know too well thy gen'rous heart,
One doubt, than all, more torment would impart :
'Tis this. In Britain's happy, courts to shine,
Amidst a thousand blooming maids, is thine:
But thou a thousand blooming maids among,
Art ftill thyself, incapable of wrong;
No outward charm can captivate thy mind,
Thy love is friendship heighten'd and refin'd ;
'Tis what my foul, and not my form inspires,
And burns with spotlefs and immortal fires.
Thy joys, like mine, from confcious truth arife,
And, known these joys, what others canst thou prize?
Be jealous doubts the curfe of fordid minds;
Hence, jealous doubts, I give ye to the winds!
Once more, O come! and fnatch me to thy arms!
Come, fhield my beating heart from vain alarms!
Come, let me hang enamour'd on thy breast,
Weep pleafing tears, and be with joy distress'd!
Let me ftill hear, and still demand thy tale,
And, oft renew'd, ftill let my fuit prevail !
Much ftill remains to tell and to enquire,
My hand ftill writes, and writing prompts defire;
My pen denies my lait farewel to write,
Still, ftill Return,' my wishful thoughts indite:
O hear, my prince, thy love,' thy mistress call,
Think o'er each tender name, and hear by all!
O pleafing intercourfe of foul with foul!
'Thus, while I write, I see, I clasp thee whole
And these kind letters trembling Zara drew,
In every line shall bring her to thy view.
Return, return! in love and truth excel ;
Return! I write; I cannot add-Farewel!
AT FULL LENGTH, BETWEEN THE BUSTS OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON AND MR. POPE, AT BATH.