WHY, DELIA, ever while I gaze Appears in frowns that lovely face? Why are those smiles to me denied That gladden every heart beside? In vain your eyes my flame reprove, I may despair, but still must love.
From sweetest airs I sought relief, And hoped from music cure for grief; Fool that I was! the thrilling sound Served only to increase the wound; I, while for rest I fondly strove, Forgot that music strengthens love.
To pleasures of a different kind Soon undeceived I turn'd my mind: I sought the fair, the gay, the young, And dress'd, and play'd, and danced, and sung: Vain joys! too weak my heart to move, Ah! what are you to her I love?
When drooping on the bed of pain, I look'd on every hope as vain ;
When pitying friends stood weeping by, And death's pale shade seem'd hovering nigh, No terror could my flame remove, Or steal a thought from her I love.
"Absence may bring relief," I cried, And straight the dreadful hope I tried; Alas! in vain was every care; Still in my heart I bore my fair' Ah! whither, whither shall I rove To shun despair, or fly from love?
WHILE from my looks, fair nymph, you guess
The secret passions of my mind,
My heavy eyes, you say, confess A heart to love and grief inclined.
There needs, alas! but little art
To have this fatal secret found; With the same ease you threw the dart, 'Tis certain you may show the wound.
How can I see you, and not love, While you as opening East are fair? While cold as northern blasts you prove, How can I love, and not despair?
The wretch in double fetters bound Your potent mercy may release ; Soon, if my love but once were crown'd, Fair prophetess! my grief would cease.
THE heavy hours are almost past That part my love and me; My longing eyes may hope at last Their only wish to see.
But how, my DELIA, will you meet The man you've lost so long? Will love in all your pulses beat, And tremble on your tongue?
Will you in every look declare Your heart is still the same;
And heal each idly anxious care
Our fears in absence frame?
Thus, DELIA, thus I paint the scene When shortly we shall meet, And try what yet remains between Of loit' ring time to cheat.
But if the dream that soothes my mind Shall false and groundless prove,
If I am doom'd at length to find You have forgot to love;
All I of Venus ask is this, No more to let us join :
But grant me here the flatt'ring bliss, To die and think you mine.
Ir wine and music have the power To ease the sickness of the soul, Let Phoebus every string explore, And Bacchus fill the sprightly bowl:
Let them their friendly aid employ To make my CHLOE's absence light, And seek for pleasure, to destroy The sorrows of this livelong night.
But she tomorrow will return;
Venus, be thou tomorrow great ; Thy myrtles strew, thy odours burn, And meet thy fav'rite nymph in state. Kind goddess, to no other powers
Let us tomorrow's blessings own; The darling Loves shall guide the hours, And all the day be thine alone.
HONEST lover, whosoever,
If in all thy love there ever Was one wavering, if thy flame Were not still even, still the same,
Know this,
Thou lov'st amiss,
And to love true,
Thou must begin again and love anew.
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