LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP: A PASTORAL. BY MRS. ELIZABETH SINGER.1 AMARYLLIS. WHILE from the skies the ruddy sun descends, SILVIA. To ev'ry shepherd I would mine proclaim : Since fair Aminta is my softest theme: A stranger to the loose delights of love, My thoughts the nobler warmth of friendship prove: AMARYLLIS. Propitious God of Love, my breast inspire With all thy charms, with all thy pleasing fire: Propitious God of Love, thy succour bring; Whilst I thy darling, thy Alexis sing; Alexis, as the opening blossoms fair, 1 Afterwards the celebrated Mrs. Elizabeth Rowe. It is said Mr. Prior once made his addresses to this lady. Lovely as light, and soft as yielding air. SILVIA. Beauteous Aminta is as early light, Breaking the melancholy shades of night. When she is near, all anxious trouble flies; And our reviving hearts confess her eyes. Young love, and blooming joy, and gay desires, In ev'ry breast the beauteous nymph inspires: And on the plain when she no more appears, The plain a dark and gloomy prospect wears. In vain the streams roll on the eastern breeze Dances in vain among the trembling trees. In vain the birds begin their ev❜ning song, And to the silent night their notes prolong: Nor groves, nor crystal streams, nor verdant field Does wonted pleasure in her absence yield. AMARYLLIS. And in his absence, all the pensive day, VOL. I. SILVIA. On flow'ry banks, by ev'ry murm'ring stream, Aminta is my Muse's softest theme: 'Tis she that does my artful notes refine : With fair Aminta's name my noblest verse shall shine. AMARYLLIS. I'll twine fresh garlands for Alexis' brows, The charming youth shall my Apollo prove: TO THE AUTHOR OF THE FOREGOING PASTORAL By Silvia if thy charming self be meant; And thy fond heart beats measure to thy strains, Pan guard thy flock, and Ceres bless thy board. But, if by chance the series of thy joys Permit one thought less cheerful to arise, Piteous transfer it to the mournful swain, Who loving much, who not belov'd again, Feels an ill-fated passion's last excess, And dies in woe, that thou mayst live in peace. TO A LADY: SHE REFUSING TO CONTINUE A DISPUTE WITH ME, AND LEAVING ME IN THE ARGUMENT. AN ODE. SPARE, gen'rous Victor, spare the slave, In the dispute whate'er I said, My heart was by my tongue belied; And in my looks you might have read How much I argu'd on your side. You, far fium danger as from fear, Your eyes are always in the right. Why, fair one, would you not rely I must at once be deaf and blind. Alas! not hoping to subdue, But she, howe'er of vict'ry sure, Contemns the wreath too long delay'd; And, arm'd with more immediate power, Calls cruel silence to her aid. Deeper to wound, she shuns the fight; And triumphs, when she seems to yield. So when the Parthian turn'd his steed, And from the hostile camp withdrew, With cruel skill the backward reed He sent; and as he fled, he slew. |