THOMAS GODFREY THE INVITATION Damon. Haste, Sylvia, haste, my charming maid! Let's leave these fashionable toys: Let's seek the shelter of some shade, And revel in ne'er fading joys. See, Spring in liv'ry gay appears, And winter's chilly blasts are fled; Each grove its leafy honours rears, And meads their lovely verdure spread. Sylvia. Yes, Damon, glad I 'll quit the town; Then sweets to luxury unknown We'll taste, and sip th' untainted stream. In Summer's sultry noon-tide heat I'll lead thee to the shady grove, There hush thy cares, or pleas'd repeat Those vows that won my soul to love. Damon. When o'er the mountain peeps the dawn, And round her ruddy beauties play, I'll wake my love to view the lawn, Or hear the warblers hail the day. But without thee the rising morn In vain awakes the cooling breeze; In vain does nature's face adorn Without my Sylvia nought can please. Sylvia. At night, when universal gloom Hides the bright prospects from our view, When the gay groves give up their bloom Tho' fleeting spectres round me move, When in thy circling arms I 'm prest, 5 IO 15 20 25 30 I'll hush my rising fears with love, And sink in slumber on thy Breast. Damon. The new-blown rose, whilst on its leaves Yet the bright scented dew-drop's found, Pleas'd on thy bosom whilst it heaves, 35 Shall shake its heav'nly fragrance round. Then mingled sweets the sense shall raise, What rapture 'mid such sweets to lie! Sylvia. How sweet thy words! But, Damon, cease, That oft have fill'd my ravish'd ear. That dwelt so lately on thy tongue; And calm my transports with thy song! Direct me by thy well-known voice, 1758. 1758. FROM THE COURT OF FANCY 'T was sultry noon; impatient of the heat I sought the covert of a close retreat: Soft by a bubbling fountain was I laid, And o'er my head the spreading branches play'd, And busy Fiction bid this vision rise. Methought I, pensive, unattended, stood, Oft I essay'd, and oft essay'd in vain; And ever ended where I first begun. While thus I lab'ring strove t' explore my way, 40 45 5 ΙΟ 15 20 Or purling streams that thro' the meadows rove; 25 In distant echoes then the sound is lost, Again reviv'd, and lo the willing trees Rise to the pow'rful numbers by degrees. Trees now no more, robb'd of their verdant bloom, They shine supporters of a spacious dome; 30 The wood to bright transparent crystal chang'd, High fluted columns rise in order rang'd. So to the magic of Amphion's lyre Stones motion found, and Thebes was seen t' aspire; 35 Each wond'ring God bent from his heav'nly seat To view what pow'rful music cou'd compleat. High on a mountain was the pile disclos'd, And spreading limes th' ascending walks compos'd; 40 45 Of all her kindred Gods, superior stood. By Fiction's hand th' amazing pile was rear'd; Its lofty top lost in the azure sky. In ev'ry part stupendous skill appear'd: In beautiful disorder, yet compleat, The structure shone irregular and great; The noble frontispiece of antique mold Glitter'd with gems and blaz'd with burnish'd gold. All the bright structure was disclos'd to view, Trembling I stood absorb'd in dread surprize, Wide round the roof a fictious sky was rais'd; A glorious Sun in the meridian blaz'd, Gay visionary scenes in order stood; Th' obedient figures at her touch disclos'd, 65 70 75 1762. FROM THE PRINCE OF PARTHIA, A TRAGEDY ACT I. SCENE I The Temple of the Sun. Gotarzes and Phraates Gotarzes. He comes, Arsaces comes! my gallant Brother, T' indulge the tear or wear the gloom of sorrow. And grace the PARTHIAN story. Glad Ctes' phon Phraates. Are lin❜d with crouds, and on the lofty walls 15 On ev'ry countenance impatience sate 20 And taught his lisping tongue to name Arsaces. And gave their murmur to the gen'ral voice. 25 Gotarzes. The spacious streets which lead up to the Temple Are strew'd with flow'rs: each with frantic joy His garland forms and throws it in the way. What pleasure, Phraates, must swell his bosom, To see the prostrate nation all around him And know he 's made them happy! to hear them Tease the Gods to show'r their blessings on him! Happy Arsaces, fain I 'd imitate Thy matchless worth, and be a shining joy. 30 Phraates. Hark, what a shout was that which pierc'd the Now proud Arabia dreads her destin'd chains, 35 Barzaphernes pursues the fugitives, 40 The few whom fav'ring Night redeem'd from slaughter: Swiftly they fled, for fear had wing'd their speed, And made them bless the shade which saf'ty gave. Phraates. What a bright hope is ours, when those dread pow'rs 45 Who rule yon heav'n and guide the mov'ments here To face bold danger, in the battle firm, 50 Forgiving mercy, gentleness, and love, Which speak the Hero friend of humankind. Gotarzes. And let me speak, for 't is to him I owe 55 That here I stand and breath the common air, And 't is my pride to tell it to the world. One luckless day, as in the eager chace My Courser wildly bore me from the rest, |