STREP. With what assurance Flavia walks the plains! She knows the nymphs must all their lovers yield. DAM. Sylvia with blushes wounds the gazing swains, And while she strives to fly, the wins the field. STREP. Flavia at first young Melibœus lov'd; For me she did that charming youth forsake. DAM. Sylvia's relentless heart was never mov'd; Gods! that I might the first impression make ! STREP. Should Flavia hear that Sylvia vy'd with her; What indignation would the charmer show !
DAM. Sylvia would Flavia to herself prefer :
There we alone her judgment difallow. STREP. If Sylvia's charms with Flavia's can compare, Why is this crowded still, and that alone? DAM. Because their ways of life so different are ; Flavia gives all men hopes, and Sylvia none.
LYCON. Shepherds, enough; now cease your amorous
Or too much heat may carry both too far;
I well attended the dispute, and find
Both nymphs have charms, but each in different kind.
Flavia deferves more pains than the will cost;
As easily got, were the not easily loft.
Sylvia is much more difficult to gain;
But, once poffefs'd, will well reward the pain.
We wish them Flavias all, when first we burn;
But, once poffefs'd, wish they would Sylvias turn.
And, by the different charms in each expreft,
One we should fooneft love, the other best.
Lamenting the Death of Mrs. TEMPEST, who died upon the Day of the great Storm.
YE gentle swains, who pass your days and nights
In Love's fincere and innocent delights!
Ye tender virgins, who with pride display
Your beauty's splendor, and extend your sway!
Lament with me! with me your forrows join !
And mingle your united tears with mine!
Delia, the Queen of Love, let all deplore!
Delia, the Queen of Beauty, now no more!
Begin, my Muse! begin your mournful strains!
Tell the fad tale through all the hills and plains!
Tell it through every lawn and every grove !
Where flocks can wander, or where shepherds rove!
Bid neighbouring rivers tell the distant sea,
And winds from pole to pole the news convey !
Delia, the Queen of Love, let all deplore !
Delia, the Queen of Beauty, now no more!
'Tis done, and all obey the mournful Muse !
See, hills, and plains, and winds, have heard the news!
The foaming sea o'erwhelms the frighten'd shore,
The vallies tremble, and the mountains roar.
See lofty oaks from firm foundations torn,
nd stately towers in heaps of ruin mourn !
The gentle Thames, that rarely passion knows,
Swells with this forrow, and her banks o'erflows:
What shrieks are heard! what groans! what dying cries!
Ev'n nature's self in dire convulfions lies!
Delia, the Queen of Love, they all deplore!
Delia, the Queen of Beauty, now no more!
O! why did I survive the fatal day,
That snatch'd the joys of all my life away ?
Why was not I beneath fome ruin loft ?
Sunk in the seas, or shipwreck'd on the coaft?
Why did the Fates spare this devoted head?
Why did I live to hear that thou wert dead?
By thee my griefs were calm'd, my torments eas'd;
Nor knew I pleasure but as thou wert pleas'd.
Where shall I wander now, distress'd, alone?
What use have I of life, now thou art gone?
I have no use, alas! but to deplore
Delia, the pride of Beauty, now no more!
What living nymph is blest with equal grace ?
All may dispute, but who can fill thy place?
What lover in his mistress hopes to find
A form fo lovely, with fo bright a mind?
Doris may boaft a face divinely fair,
But wants thy shape, thy motions, and thy air.
Lucinda has thy shape, but not those eyes,
That, while they did th' admiring world furprize,
Disclos'd the fecret luftre of the mind,
And feem'd each lover's inmost thoughts to find.
Others, whose beauty yielding fwains confefs,
By indifcretion make their conquest less,
And want thy conduct and obliging wit
To fix those flaves who to their chains fubmit.
As fome rich tyrant hoards an useless store,
That would, well plac'd, inrich a thousand more:
So didst thou keep a crowd of charms retir'd
Would make a thousand other nymphs admir'd.
Gay, modest, artless, beautiful and young,
Slow to refolve; in resolution strong;
To all obliging, yet referv'd to all;
None could himself the favour'd lover call :
That which alone could make his hopes endure,
Was, that he saw no other swain fecure.
Whither, ah! whither are those graces fled?
Down to the dark, the melancholy shade?
Now, shepherds, now lament! and now deplore!
Delia is dead, and beauty is no more!
For thee each tuneful swain prepar'd his lays,
His fame exalting while he fung thy praife.
Thyrfis, in gay and easy meafures, strove
To charm thy ears, and tune thy foul to love :
Menalcas, in his numbers more fublime,
Extoll'd thy virtues in immortal rhyme.
Glycon whose fatire kept the world in awe,
Soften'd his strain, when first thy charms he saw,
Confefs'd the goddess who new-form'd his mind,
Proclaim'd thy beauties, and forgot mankind.
Cease, shepherd, cease; the charms you fung are fled,
The glory of our blasted isle is dead.
Now join your griefs with mine! and now deplore lia, the pride of beauty, now no more!
Behold where now the lies, depriv'd of breath!
Charming though pale, and beautiful in death!
A troop of weeping Virgins by her fide;
With all the pomp of woe and forrows pride!
O, early loft! O, fitter to be led
In chearful fplendor to the bridal-bed,
Than thus conducted to th' untimely tomb,
A fpotlefs virgin in her beauty's bloom!
Whatever hopes fuperior merit gave,
Let me, at least, embrace thee in the grave;
On thy cold lips imprint a dying kiss :'
O that thy coyness could refuse me this!
Such melting tears upon thy limbs I'll pour,
Shall thaw their numbness, and thy warmth reftore,
Clafpt to my glowing breast, thou may'st revive;
I'll breathe fuch tender fighs shall make thee live,
Or, if feverer fates that aid deny,
If thou canft not revive, yet I may die.
In one cold grave together may be laid
The trueft lover and the loveliest maid.
Then shall I cease to grieve, and not before;
Then shall I ceafe fair Delia to deplore.
But fee, those dreadful objects disappear!
The fun shines out, and all the heavens are clear:
The warring winds are hush'd, the sea ferene;
And nature, foften'd, shifts her angry scene.
What means this fudden change? methinks I hear
Melodious music from the heavenly fphere!
Jiften, ye fhepherds, and devour the found!
Liften; the faint, the lovely faint, is crown'd!
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