The world has now no joy for me:
Nor can life, now, one pleasure boast ;
Since all my eyes defir'd to fee,
My with, my hope, my all is loft:
Since the, fo form'd to pleafe and blefs,
So wife, fo innocent, fo fair,
Whofe converfe fweet made Sorrow lefs,
And brighten'd all the gloom of care:
Since the is loft-ye powers divine!
What have I done, or thought, or faid?
O fay! what horrid act of mine,
Has drawn this vengeance on my head?
Why should Heaven favour Lycon's claim?
Why are my heart's best wishes croft ?
What fairer deeds adorn his name?
What nobler inerit can he boast?
What higher worth in him was found,
My true heart's fervice to outweigh?
A fenfelefs fop!-a dull compound
Of scarcely animated clay!
He drefs'd indeed, he danc'd with ease,
And charm'd her, by repeating o'er
Unmeaning raptures in her praise,
That twenty fools had faid before :
But I, alas! who thought all art
My paffion's force would meanly prove,
Qould only boast an honeft heart,
And claim'd no merit but my love.
Have I not fate-ye confcious hours,
Be witnefs-while my Stella fung,
From morn to eve, with all my powers
Rapt in th' enchantment of her tongue!
Ye confcious hours, that faw me stand,
Entranc'd in wonder and furprize,
In filent rapture prefs her hand,
With paffion bursting from my eyes.
Have I not lov'd!-O Earth and Heaven!
Where, now, is all my youthful boaft?
The dear exchange I hop'd was giv'n
For flighted Fame, and Fortune loft!
Where now the joys that once were mine?
Where all my hopes of future bliss?
Muft I those joys, those hopes, refign!
Is all her friendship come to this?
Muft then, each woman faithless prove;
And each fond loyer be undone ?
Are vows no more!-Almighty Love!
The fad remembrance let me fhun!
It will not be--my honest heart
The dear, fad image ftill retains:
And, fpite of Reason, spite of Art,
The dreadful memory remains.
Ye Powers divine, whofe wondrous skill
Deep in the womb of Time can fee,
Behold, I bend me to your will,
Nor dare arraign your high decree!
Let her be blefs'd with health, with ease,
With all your bounty has in ftore;
Let forrow cloud my future days,
Be Stella blefs'd!-I afk no more..
But lo! where, high in yonder East,
The ftar of Morning mounts apace !
Hence-let me fly th' unwelcome guest,
And bid the Mufe's labour cease.
WHEN young, Life's journey I began,
The glittering profpect charm'd my eyes,
I faw along th' extended plain
Joy after joy fucceffive rife:
And Fame her golden trumpet blew ;
And Power difplay'd her gorgeous charms;
And Wealth engag'd my wandering view;
And Pleasure woo'd me to her arms:
To each, by turns, my vows I paid,
As Folly led me to admire ;
While Fancy magnified each fhade,
And Hope encreas'd each fond defire. But foon I found 'twas all a dream;
And learn'd the fond purfuit to shun, Where few can reach their purpos'd aim, And thousands, daily, are undone :
And Fame, I found, was empty air;
And Wealth had Terror for her guest;
And Pleasure's path was ftrew'd with Care;
And Power was vanity at beft.
Tir'd of the chace, I gave it o'er;
And, in a far fequefter'd shade,
To Contemplation's fober power
My youth's next fervices I paid.
There Health and Peace adorn'd the scene;
And oft, indulgent to my prayer,
With mirthful eye, and frolic mien,,
The Mufe would deign to visit there :
There would fhe oft, delighted, rove
The flow'r-enamell'd vale along;
Or wander with me through the grove,
And listen to the wood-lark's fong;
Or, 'mid the forefi's awful gloom,
Whilft wild amazement fill'd my eyes,
Recall paft ages from the tomb,
And bid ideal worlds arise.
Thus, in the Mufe's favour bleft,
One wish alone my foul could frame, And Heaven bestow'd, to crown the reit, A friend, and Thyrfis was his name. For manly conftancy, and truth,
And worth, unconfcious of a stain, He bloom'd, the flower of Britain's youth,
The boat and wonder of the plain.
Still, with our years, our friendship grew;
No cares did then my peace destroy :
Time brought new bleflings, as he flew;
And every hour was wing'd with joy :
But foon the blissful fcene was loft;
Soon did the fad reverse appear;
Love came, like an untimely frost,
To blaft the promife of my year.
I faw young Daphne's angel form,
(Fool that I was, I blefs'd the fmart)
And, while I gaz'd, nor thought of harm,
The dear infection feiz'd my heart:
She was at least in Damon's eyes-
Made up of loveliness and grace;
Her heart a stranger to difguife;
Her mind as perfect as her face:
To hear her speak, to see her move,
(Unhappy I, alas! the while)
Her voice was joy, her look was love,
And Heaven was open in her fmile!
She heard me breathe my am'rous prayers,
She liften'd to the tender ftrain,
She heard my fighs, fhe faw my tears,
And feem'd, at length, to fhare my pain. She faid the lov'd-and I, poor youth! (How foon, alas! can Hope perfuade!) Thought all the faid no more than truth, And all my love was well repaid.
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