Such, if not fweeter, was the rich perfume
Which swift afcended from Amyntas' tomb,
As if th' Arabian bird her nest had fir'd, `
And on the fpicy pile were new expir'd.

150

And now the turf, which late was naked feen, Was fudden spread with lively springing green. 155 And Amaryllis faw, with wond'ring eyes,

A flow'ry bed, where she had wept, arise:
Thick as the pearly drops the fair had fhed

The blowing buds advanc'd their purple head;
From ev'ry tear that fell a violet grew,

160

And thence their sweetness came, and thence their mournful huc.

Remember this, ye Nymphs and gentle Maids! When folitude ye feek in gloomy fhades, Or walk on banks where filent waters flow, For there this lonely flow'r will love to grow: 165 Think on Amyntas oft' shall stoop as ye

To crop the ftalks and take 'em softly up:

When in your fnowy necks their sweets you wear, Give a foft figh, and drop a tender tear!

To lov'd Amyntas pay the tribute due,

17Q

And blefs his peaceful grave where first they grew.

ELEGIES.

TO CYNTHIA,

WEEPING AND NOT SPEAKING.

Wuy are thofe hours which Heav'n in pity lent
To longing love in fruitless forrow spent.?
Why fighs my fair? why does that bofom move
With any paffion ftirr'd but rifing love?
Can Discontent find place within that breast,
On whose soft pillows ev'n Despair might rest?
Divide thy woes, and give me my fad part,
I am no ftranger to an akeing heart;
Too well I know the force of inward grief,
And well can bear it to give you relief:
All love's fevereft pangs I can endure;

I can bear pain, tho' hopeless of a cure:

I know what 't is to weep, and figh, and pray,
To wake all night, yet dread the breaking day:

5

ΤΟ

I know what 't is to with, and hope, and all in vain, And mett, for humble love, unkind difdain:

Anger and hate I have been forc'd to bear,

Nay, jealoufy

and I have felt defpair.

Thefe pains for you I have been forc'd to prove,
For cruel you, when I began to love:
Till warm compaffion took at length my part,
And melted to my wifh your yielding heart.

16

20

O the dear hour in which you did refign!
When round my neck your willing arms did twine,
And in a kifs you faid your heart was mine. 25
'Thro' each returning year may that hour be
Diftinguish'd in the rounds of all eternity;
Gay be the fun that hour in all his light,
Let him collect the day to be more bright,
Shine all that hour, and let the reft be night. 30
And fhall I all this heav'n of blifs receive
From you, yet not lament to see you grieve?
Shall I, who nourish'd in my breast defire,
When your cold scorn and frowns forbid the fire,
Now when a mutual flame you have reveal'd,
And the dear union of our fouls is feal'd,
When all my joys complete in you I find,

I

Shall I not share the forrows of your mind?

O tell me, tell me all-whence does arife

35

45

This flood of tears? whence are thefe frequent fighs?
Why does that lovely head, like a fair flow'r
Opprefs'd with drops of a hard-falling fhow'r,
Bend with its weight of grief, and feem to grow
Downward to earth, and kifs the root of wo?
Lean on my breast, and let me fold thee fast,
Lock'd in these arms think all thy forrows paft;
Or, what remain think lighter made by me;
So I should think, were I fo held by thee.
Murmur thy plaints, and gently wound my ears;
Sigh on my lip, and let me drink thy tears;

45

50

Join to my cheek thy cold and dewy face,
And let pale Grief to glowing Love give place.
O fpeak-for wo in filence most appears;
Speak, ere my fancy magnify my fears.

Is there a cause which words cannot exprefs?
Can I not bear a part, nor make it lefs?
I know not what to think-Am I in fault?
I have not, to my knowledge, err'd in thought,
Nor wander'd from my love, nor would I be
Lord of the world to live depriv'd of thee.
You weep afresh, and at that word you ftart!
Am I to be depriv'd then?-muft we part?
Curfe on that word, fo ready to be spoke,
For thro' my lips unmeant by me it broke.
Oh! no; we muft not, will not, cannot, part,
And my tongue talks unprompted by my heart.
Yet fpeak, for my distraction grows apace,
And racking fears and restless doubts increase;
And fears and doubts to jealousy will turn,
The hotteft hell in which a heart can burn.

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60

65

70

TO SLEEP.

O SLEEP! thou flatterer of happy minds,
How foon a troubled breast thy falfehood finds!
Thou common friend, officious in thy aid,
Where no diftrefs is fhown, nor want betray'd:
But, oh! how fwift, how fure thou art to fhun
The wretch by Fortune or by Love undone!
Where are thy gentle dews, thy fofter pow'rs,
Which us'd to wait upon my midnight hours!
Why doft thou cease thy hov'ring wings to fpread
With friendly shade around my restless bed?
Can no complainings thy compaffion move?
Is thy antipathy fo ftrong to love?

O no! thou art the profp'rous lover's friend,
And doft uncall'd his pleafing toils attend:
With equal kindness and with rival charms,
Thy flumbers lull him in his fair one's arms;
Or from her bofom he to thine retires,

20

Where footh'd with eafe the panting youth refpires,
Till foft repofe reftore his drooping fenfe,
And rapture is reliev'd by indolence.
But, oh! what fortune does the lover bear,
Forlorn'd by thee and haunted by Despair!
From racking thoughts by no kind flumber freed,
But painful nights his joyless days fucceed.