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Then I repented I had vow'd no more
Now, if you hope to live in Delia's arms, To love, or Delia's beauteous eyes adore.
To die in raptures, or diffolve in charms, Why am I now condemn'd to banishment,
Quick to the blissful, bappy manfion fly, And made an exile, by my own confent?
Where all is one continu'd extasy. I fighing cry'd, why should I live in pain
Delia impatiently expects you there : Those Aeeting hours which ne'er return again? And sure you will not disappoint the fair. O Delia! what can wretched Strephon do!
None but the impotent or old would stay, Inhuman to himself, and false to you !
When Love invites, and Beauty calls away. ”Tis true, I've promis'd Reason to remove
Oh! you convey, said I, dear charming bog, From these retreats, and quit bright Delia's love:
Into my soul a strange disorder'd joy. But is not Reafon partially unkind ?
I would, but dare not, your advice pursue; Are all her votaries, like me, confin'd?
I've promis'd Rcaron, and I must be true, Must none, that under her dominion live,
Reason 's the rightful empress of the foul; To Love and Beauty veneration give?
Does all exorbitant desires control; Why then did Nature youthful Delia grace
Checks every wild excursion of the mind, With a majestic mein, and charming face?
By her wise dictates happily confin'd:
And he that will not her commands obey,
Leaves a safe convoy in a dangerous les.
True, I love Delia to a vast excess, But, fince it must be so, I'll haste away;
But I must try to make my passion less;
Try if I can, if possible, I will,
For I have vow'd, and must that vow fulfl.
Oh! had I not, with what a vigorous flight
Could I pursue the quarries of delight! Compellid from hence, I leave my quiet here;
How could I press fair Delia in these arms, I may find safety, but I buy it dear.
Till I diffolv'd in love, and the in charms! Then turning round, I saw a beauteous boy,
But now no more must I her beauties view; Such as of old were messengers of joy ;
Yet tremble at the thought to leave ber too. Who art thou, or from whense? if sent, said I, What would I give, I might my fame allow! To me, my hafte requires a quick reply.
Bụt 'tis forbid by Reason, and a vow; I come, he cry'd, from yon celestial grove, Two mighty obstacles : though Love of old Where stands the temple of the God of Love; Has broke through greater, stronger powers controle With whose important favour you are grac’d,
Should I offend, by high example taught, And justly in his high protection plac'd:
'T would not be an inexpiable fault, Be grateful, Strephon, and obey that god,
The crimes of malice have found grace above, Whose sceptre ne'er is chang'd into a rod;
And sure kind Heaven will spare the crimes of Love. That god, to whom the haughty and the proud, Could'it thou, my angel, but inftruct me how The bold, the bravest, nay, the best, have bow'd : I might be happy, and not break my vow; That god, whom all the lesser gods adore ;
Or, by some fubtle art, diffolve the chain; First in existence, and the firft in power.
You 'i foon revive my dying hopes again. From him I come, on embassy divine,
Reason and Love, I know, could ne'er agree; To tell thee, Delia, Delia may be thine ;
Both would command, and both fuperior be. To whom all beauties rightful tribute pay;
Reason 's supported by the finewy force Delia, the young, the lovely, and the gay.
Of solid argument, and wise discourse; If you dare push your fortune, if you dare
But Love pretends to use no other arms But be resolved, and press the yielding fair,
Than soft impressions, and persuasive charms, Success and glory will your labours crown;
One must be disobey'd; and shall I prore For Fate does rarely on the valiant frown.
A rebel to my Reason, or to Love? But, were you sure to be unkindly us'd,
But then, suppose I should my flame pursus, Coldly receiv'd, ar,d scornfully refus’d;
Delia may be unkind, and faithless teo; He greater glory and more fame obtains,
Reject my passion with a proud disdain, Who loses Delia, than who Phyllis gains.
And scorn the love of such an humble (wais: But, to prevent all fears that may arise,
Then should I labour under mighty grief, (Though fears nc'er move the daring and the wife) Beyond all hopes or prospect of relief. In the dark volumes of eternal doom,
So that, methinks, 'tis safer to obey Where all things paft, and present, and to come, Right Reason, though the bears a rugged Tway, Are writ, I saw these words-" It is decreed, Than Love's soft rulc, whose subjects underg “ That Strephon's love to Delia shall succeed.” Early or late, too fad a share of woe. What would you more? While youth and vigour last, Can I fo foon forget that wretched crew, Love, and be happy; they decline too fast.
Reason just now expos'd before my view? In youth alone you 're capable to prove
If Delia should be cruel, I must bex
A sad partaker of their misery.
I'm almost tempted to pursue my love:
For what could Love by my destruction gain? Of happy lovers, who consum'd their hours,
With conftant jollity, in shady bowers.
There I beheld the blest variety A god, for gods can never be unjust.
Of joy, from all corroding troubles free:
Each follow'd his own fancy to delight; Right you conclude, reply'd the smiling boy ; Though all went different ways, yet all went right. Love ruins none, 'tis men themselves destroy ; None err'd, or miss'd the happiness he fought; And those vile wretches which you lately saw, Love to one centre every twining brought. Transgress'd his rules, as well as Reason's law. We pass’d through numerous pleasant fields and glades, They're not Love's subjects, but the slaves of Luft; By murmuring fountains, and by peaceful thades; Nor is their punishment so great as juft.
Till we approach'd the confines of the wood, For Love and Luft effentially divide,
Where mighty Love's immortal temple ftood;
Round the cæleftial fane, in goodly rows,
Beneath whose shade expecting lovers wait
For the kind minute of indulgent fate; 'Tis Luft (not Love) and Reason that are foes. Each had his guardian Cupid, whose chief care, She bids you scorn a base inglorious flame,
By secret motions, was to warm the fair ;
To move the now, and to incline the coy.
The glorious fabric charm’d my wondering fight; The brave pursuit of honorable love:
Of vart extent, and of prodigious height: And therefore judge what 's harmless an offence; The case was marble, but the polith'd stone. Invert her meaning, and mistake her sense.
With such an admirable lustre shone, She could not such infipid counsel give,
As if some architect divine had strove
T' outdo the palace of imperial Jove;
With di’monds of a mighty fize inlaid ;
Here stood the winged guards, in order plac'd, In old Alexis' dull embraces laid ?
With shining darts and golden quivers grac'd: Or rough-hewn Tityrus possess those charms, As we approach'd, they clapp'd their joyful wings, Which are an heaven, the heaven of Delia's arms ? And cry'd aloud, Tune, tune your warbling Itrings; Consider, youth, what transport you forego, The grateful youth is come, to sacrifice The most intire felicity below;
At Delia's altar to bright Delia's eyes ; Which is by fate alone reserv'd for you :
With harmony divine his soul inspire,
And ye that wait upon the blushing fair,
Refines her beauties, and improves her charms.
Entering the spacious dome, my ravish'd eyes
Amidst the temple was an altar made But banish all the dull remains of fear.
Of solid gold, where adoration 's paid;
Here I perform'd the usual rites with fear, Dare you be happy, youth; but dare, and be ;
Not daring boldly to approach too near; I'll be your convoy to the charming The.
Till from the god a smiling Cupid came, What! Atill irresolute? debating still?
And bid me touch the confecrated Aame: View her, and then forsake her if you will.
Which done, my guide my eager steps convey'd I'll go, said I; once more I 'll venture all; To the apartment of the beauteous maid.
Before the entrance was her altar rais'd,
On pedestals of polith'd marble plac'd,
By it her guardian Cupid always stands, Reason, if I do err, my crime forgive :
Who troops of missionary Loves command:
To him, with soft addresses all repair : ngels alone without offending live.
Each for his captive humbly begs the fair: go astray but as the wise have done ; and act a folly which they did not shun.
Though fill in vain they importun'd; for he
Would give encouragement to none but me. Then we, descending to a spacious plain,
There stands the youth, he cry'd, must take a bliss, Vere foon saluted by a numerous train
The lovely Delia can be none but his ;
Fate has selected him; and mighty Love
Then he expos’d the lovely Neeping maid,
Long time I gaz’d; but, as I trembling drew
Why was I born, or why do I survive; To be made wretched only, kept alive? Fate is too cruel in the harsh decree, That I must live, yet live in misery. Are all its pleasing happy moments gone? Muft Strephon be unfortunate alone? On other swains it lavishly bestows; On them each nymph neglected favour throw:: They meet compliance ftill in every face, And lodge their paffions in a kind embrace; Obtaining from the soft incurious maid True love for counterfeit, and gold for lead. Success on Mævius always does attend; Inconstant fortune is his constant friend : He levels blindly, yet the mark does hit; And owes the victory to chance, not wit. But, let him conquer ere one blow he ftruck; I'd not be Mævius, to have Mævius' luck. Proud of my fate, I would not change my chains For all the trophies purring Mævius gains; But rather still live Delia's Nave, than be Like Mævius filly, and like Mævius free. But he is happy, loves the common road; And, pack-horse like, jogs on beneath his load. If Phyllis peevith or unkind does prove, It ne'er disturbs his grave mechanic love. A little joy his languid flame contents, And makes him easy under all events. But when a passion 's noble and sublime, And higher still would every moment climb; If 't is accepted with a just return, The fire 's immortal, will for ever burn; And with such raptures fills the lover's breast, That saints in paradise are scarce more blea.
But I lament my miseries in vain; For Delia hears me, pitiless, complain. Suppose the pities, and believes me true, What satisfaction can from thence accrue, Unless her pity makes her love me too! Perhaps the loves ('t is but perhaps, I fear, For that 's a blessing can 't be bought too dear) If she has scruples that oppose her will, I must, alas! be miserable still. Though, if the loves, those scruples foon will fly Before the reasoning of the Deity: For, when love enters, he will rule alone, And suffer no co-partner in his throne; And those false arguments that would repel His high injunctions, teach us to rebel.
What method can poor Strephon then propound, To cure the bleeding of his fatal wound, If she, who guided the vexatious dart, Resolves to cherith and increase the smart? Go, youth, from these unhappy plains remove, Leave the pursuit of unsuccessful love: Go, and to foreign (wains thy griefs relate, Tell them the cruelty of frowning fate; Tell them the noble charms of Delia's mind, Tell them how fair, but tell them how unkind. And when few years thou hast in forrow (pent (For sure they cannot be of large extent); In prayers for her thou lov'ft, rehgn thy breath, And bless the minute gives thee ease and death.
Here pausid the Swain, when Delia driving by Her bleating flock to some fresh pasture nigh,
THE FORTUNATE COMPLAINT.
S Strephon, in a wither'd cypress shade,
For anxious thought and fighing lovers made,
Why do I prosecute a hopeless flame,
My torments still do with my passion grow; The more I love, the more I undergo. But suffer me no longer to remain Beneath the pressure of so vast a pain. My wound requires fome speedy remedy: Delays are fatal, when despair is nigh. Much I've endur'd, much more than I can tell; Too much, indeed, for one that loves so well. When will the end of all my sorrows be? Can you not love? I'm sure you piły me. But, if I must new miseries sustain, And be condemn'd to more and stronger pain, I 'll not accuse you, fince my fate is such, I please too little, and I love too much.
Strephon, no more; the blushing Delia said, Excuse the conduct of a timorous maid: Now I'm convinc'd your love 's sublime and true, Such as I always with'd to find in you. Each kind expression, every tender thought, A mighty transport in my bosom ought : And though in secret I your flame approv'd, I fighd, and griev'd, but durft uot own I lov'd. Though now-- Strephon! be so kind to guess, What Thame will not allow me to confess.
The youth, encompass'd with a joy fo bright, Had hardly strength to bear the vast delight. By too sublime an extasy poffeft, He trembled, gaz'd, and clasp'd her to his breast; Ador’d the nymph that did his pain remove, Vow'd endless truth, and everlasting love.
By Love directed, did her steps convey
When humble suppliants would the gods appease,
O, do not blame me, Delia! if I press So much, and with impatience, for redress. My ponderous griefs no ease my foul allow; For they are next t'intolerable now: How shall I then support them, when they grow To an excess, to a distracting woe? Since you 're endow'd with a celestial mind, Relieve like Heaven, and like the gods be kind. Did you perceive the torments I endure, Which you first caus'd, and you alone can cure, They would your virgin soul to pity move, And pity may at last be chang'd to love. Some swains, I own, impofe upon the fair, And lead th' incautious maid into a snare; But let them fuffer for their perjury, And do not punith others crimes with me. If there 's so many of our sex untrue, Yours should more kindly use the faithful few; 'Though innocence too oft incurs the fate Of guilt, and clears itself sometimes too late. Your nature is to tenderness inclin'd; And why to me, to me alone unkind? A common lovc, by other persons shewn, Meets with a full return; but mine has none : Nay, scarce beliey'd, though from deceit as free As angels flames can for archangels be. A partion feign'd, at no repulse is griev'd, And values little if it be n't receiv'd: Put, love sincere resents the smallest scorn, And the unkindness does in secret mourn.
Sometimes I please myself, and think you are Too good to make me wretched by despair ;
That tenderness, which in your soul is plac'd,
Perhaps you pity me; I know you must,
STREPHON'S LOVE FOR DELIA JUSTIFIED.
In an Epistle to Celadon. LL men have follies, which they blindly trace But happy those, who, by a prudent care, Retreat betimes from the fallacious snare.
The eldest fons of Wisdom were not free
If, as the wiseft of the wise have err’d,
You own'd my Delia, friend, divinely fair,
Your praise did then her early charms confess, 'Tis then the charms of eloquencesimpat
Their native glories unimprov'd by art:
By what she says I measure things above, But might from thence sublime ideas draw,
And guess the language of seraphic love. And what the is, by what she was, conclude;
To the cool bofom of a peaceful shade, For now the governs those the then fubdued.
By some wild beech or lofty poplar made, Her aspect noble and mature is grown,
When evening comes, we fecretly repair And every charm in its full vigour known.
To breath in private, and unbend our care: There we may wondering view, distinctly writ,
And while our flocks in fruitful pastures feed, The lines of goodness, and the marks of wit : Some well-design'd, instructive poem read; Each feature, emulous of pleasing most,
Where useful morals, with soft numbers join'd, Does justly some peculiar sweetness boast;
At once delight and cultivate the mind : And her composure 's of fo fine a frame,
Which are by her to more perfection brought, Pride cannot hope to mend, nor Envy blame. By wise remarks upon the poet's thought ;
Só well she knows the stamp of eloquences When the immortal beauties of the skies
The empty sound of words from folid fenfe. Contended naked for the golden prize,
The florid fustian of a rhyming fpark, The apple had not fallin to Venus' share,
Whofe random arrow ne'er comes near thie mak, Had I been Paris, and my Delia there;
Can't on ber judgment be impos'd, and pass In whom alone we all their graces find,
For standard gold, when 't is bat gilded brals. The moving gaiety of Venus, join'd
Oft in the walks of an adjacent grove, With Junio's aspect, and Minerva's mind.
Where first we mutually engag'd to love, View both those nymphs whom other swains adorc, She smiling ask'd me, Whether I'd prefer You 'll value charming Delia still the more.
An humble cottage on the plains with her, Dorinda's mien 's majestic, but her mind
Before the pompous building of the great ; Is to revenge and peevithness inclind;
And find content in that inferior state? Myrtilla 's fair; and yet Myrtilla 's proud:
Said I, The question you propofe to me, Chloe has wit ; but noisy, vain, and loud:
Perhaps a matter of debate might be, Melania doats upon the filliest things;
Were the degrees of my affection less And yet Melania like an angel fings.
Than burning martyrs to the gods express. But in my Delia all endowments meet,
In you I've all I can desire below, All that is just, agreeable, or sweet;
That earth can give me, or the gods bestow; All that can praise and admiration move,
And, bleft with you, I know not where to find All that the wiseft and the bravest love.
A second choice, you take up all my mind.
I'd not forsake that dear, delightful plain, In all discourse the 's appolite and gay,
Where charming Delia, Love and Delia reign And ne'er wants something pertinent to say;
For all the splendor that a court can give, For, if the subject 's of a serious kind,
Where gaudy fools and busy statesmen live. Her thoughts are manly, and her sense refin'd;
Though youthful Paris, when his birth was kno But if divertive, her expression 's fit,
(Too fatally related to a throne) Good language, join'd with inoffensive wit;
Forsook Oenone, and bis rural sports, So cautious always, that the ne'er affords
For dangerous greatness, and tumultuous courts; An idle thought the charity of words.
Yet rate should ftill offer its power in vain; The vices common to her sex can find
For whai is power to such an humble swain? No room, ev’n in the suburbs of her mind;
I would not leave my Delia, leave my fair, Concluding wisely the 's in danger ftill.
Though half the globe should be affign'd my share. From the mere neighbourhood of industrious ill. And would you have me, friend, reffed again, Therefore at distance keeps the subtle foe,
Become the baseft and the worst of men? Whose near approach tvould formidable grow; O, do not urge me, Celadon; forbear; While the unwary virgin is uxdone,
I cannot leave her, she's too charming fair! And meets the misery which the ought to shun. Should I your counsel in this case pursee, Her wit is penetrating, clear, and g.!y;
You might fufpect me for a villain too: But let true judgment and right reason fway;
For sure that perjur'd wretch can never prove Modestly bold, and quick to apprchend;
Just to his friend, who's faithlefs to his lore. Prompt in replies, but cautious to offend. Her darts are keer, but level'd with fuch care, They ne'er fall short, and feldom fly too far:
EPISTLE TO DELIA.· For when she rallies, 'tis with so much art, We blush with pleasure, and with rapture smart.
S those who hope hereafter heaven to share
A rigorous exile here can calmly beas, O, Celadon! you would my flame approve, And, with collected spirits, undergo Did you but only hear her talk of love.
The sad variety of pain below; That tender pallion to her fancy brings
Yet, with intense reflections antedate The prettiest notions, and the loftest things; The mighty raptures of a future state; Which are by her so movingly exprest,
While the bright prospect of approaching joy They fill with extasy my throbbing breast.
Creates a bliss
no trouble can destroy ;