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Where'er he moves, let love-join'd reverence rise,
And all mankind behold with Zara's eyes !
Thy breast alone, when bounding o'er the waves
To Freedom's climes, from slavery and saves;
Thy breast 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 thousand times my lips the paper press’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 sustain'd returning life.
Hope, sweet enchantress! round my love-fick head
Delightful scenes of bless’d delusion spread.
• Come, come, my prince! my charmer! haste away;
• Come, come!' I cry'd, thy Zara blames thy stay.
• For thee the shrubs 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
• Till thy return, the rills forget to fall,
• Till thy return, the sun, the soul of all!
• He comes, my maids, in his meridian charms,
• He comes refulgent to his Zara's arms!
• With jocund songs proclaim my love's return;
• With jocund hearts his nuptial bed adorn!
Bright as the sun, yet gentle as the dove,
• He comes, uniting majesty with love !"
Too soon, alas! the bless’d delusion flies ;
Care swells my breast, and forrow fills my eyes.
Ah! why do thy fond words suggest a fear; -
Too vast, too númerous, those already here !
Ah! why with doubts torment my bleeding breaft,
Of seas which storms controul, and foes infeft!
My heart, in all this tedious absence, knows
No thoughts but thofe of seas, and storms, and foes.
Each joyless morning, with the rising fun,
Quick to the strand my feet spontaneous run:
< Where, where's my prince ! what tidings have ye brought!'
Of each I met, with pleading tears I fought.
In vain I fought; some, conscious of my pain,
With horrid silence pointed to the main.
Some with a sneer the brutal thought express'd,
And plung'd the dagger of a barb'rous jest.
Day follow'd day, and still I wilh'd the next,
New hopes still 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 Power Supreme! whoe'er thou art,
Thy shrine the sky, the sea, the earth, or heart;
• Since every clime, and all th' unbounded main,
• And hostile barks, and storms, are thy domain,
• If faithful pasfion can thy bounty move,
• (And goodness sure 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 last, 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'st, did Zara stay behind ?
How could I fondly hope one joy to prove,
Midst all the wild anxieties of love?
Had fate in other mould thy Zara form’d,
And my bold breast 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 soil !
In the cold prison had I lain with thee,
In love still happy, we had still been free;
Then fortune brav'd, had own’d superior might,
And pin'd with envy, while we forc'd delight.
Why shouldīt thou bid thy love remember thee?
Thine all my thoughts have been, and still shall be.
Each night the cool savannahs have I fought,
And breath'd the fondness of enamour'd thought;
The curling breezes murmur'd as I figh’d,
And hoarse, at distance, roar'd my foe, the tide :
My-breaft still haunted by a motley train,
Now doubts, now hopes prevaild, now joy, now pain!
Now fix'd I stand, my spirit fled to thine,
Nor note the time, nor see the fun decline !
Now rouz'd I start, and wing'd with fear I run ;
In vain, alas ! for 'tis myself I shun!
When kindly sleep it's lenient balm supply'd,
And gave that comfort waking thought deny'd.
Last night—but why, ah Zara! why impart,
.The fond, fond fancies of a love-lick heart !
Yet true delights on fancy's wings are brought,
And love's soft raptures realiz'd in thought-
Last night I saw—methinks I see it now!
Heaven's awful concave round thy Zara bow ;
When sudden thence a flaming chariot flew,
Which earth receiv'd, and fix white courfers drew:
Then, quick transition, did thy Zara ride,
Borne to the chariot, wond'rous, by thy side ;
All glorious both, from clime to clime we flew,
Each happy clime with sweet surprize we view.
A thousand voices sung, • All bliss betide
• The prince of Lybia, and his faithful bride !!
< "Tis done, 'tis done ! resounded through the kies,
And quick aloft the car began to rise ;
Ten thousand beauties crouded on my fight,
Ten thousand glories beam'd a dazzling light.
My thoughts could bear no more, the vision fled,
And wretched Zara view'd her lonely bed.
Come, sweet interpreter, and ease my soul;
Come to my bosom, and explain the whole.
Alas, my prince !-yet hold, my struggling breast;
Sure we shall meet again, again be bless'd.
• Hope all,' thou say'ft, I live, and still am free ;'
O then prevent those hopes, and hafte to me!
Ease all the doubts thy Zara's bofom 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 still thyself, incapable of wrong;
No outward charm can captivate thy mind,
Thy love is friendship heighten'd and refin'd;
'Tis what my soul, and not my form inspires,
And burns with spotless and immortal fires.
Thy joys, like mine, from conscious truth arise,
And, known these joys, what others canst thou prize ?
Be jealous doubts the curse of fordid minds;
Hence, jealous doubts, I give ye to the winds !
Once more, O come! and snatch me to thy arms !
Come, shield my beating heart from vain alarms !
Come, let me hang enamour'd on thy breaft,
Weep pleasing tears, and be with joy distress'd!
Let me still hear, and still deinand thy tale,
And, oft renew'd, ftill let my fuit prevail !
Much still remains to tell and to enquire,
My hand still writes, and writing prompts defire ;
My pen denies my lait farewel to write,
Still, still “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 pleasing intercourse of soul with foul!
'Thus, while I write, I see, I clasp thee whole ;
And these kind letters trembling Zara drew,
In eveny line shall bring her to thy view.
Return, return! in love and truth excel;
Returw! I write ; I cannot addFarewel !
LENGTH, BETWEEN THE BUSTS OF SIR ISAAC
NEWTON AND MR. POPE, AT BATH.