Her loosely-flowing hair, all radiant bright,
O'er-spread the dewy grafs like ftreams of light:
As if the fun had of his beams been fhorn,
And caft to earth the glories he had worn.
A fight fo lovely fad, fuch deep distress,
No tongue can tell, no pencil can express.

And now the winds, which had fo long been still,
Began the fwelling air with fighs to fill:
The water-nymphs, who motionless remain'd,
Like images of ice, while the complain'd,
Now loos'd their streams; as when descending rains
Roll the steep torrents headlong o'er the plains.
The prone creation, who fo long had gaz'd,
Charm'd with her cries, and at her griefs amaz'd,
Began to roar and howl with horrid yell,
Difinal to hear, and terrible to tell ;

Nothing but groans and fighs were heard around,
And Echo multiplied each mournful found.
When all at once an univerfal pause
Of grief was made, as from fome fecret caufe.
The balmy air with fragrant scents、was fill'd,
As if each weeping tree had gums distill❜d.
Such, if not fweeter, was the rich perfume
Which swift afcended from Amyntas' tomb :
As if th' Arabian bird her neft had fir'd,
And on the fpicy pile were now expir'd.

And now the turf, which late was naked seen,
Was fudden spread with lively-fpringing green;
And Amarillis faw, with wondering eyes,
A flowery bed, where fhe had wept, arife;

Thick as the pearly drops the fair had shed,
The blowing buds advanc'd their purple head;
From every tear that fell, a violet grew,

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

Remember this, ye nymphs and gentle maids,
When folitude ye feek in gloomy shades ;
Or walk on banks where filent waters flow,
For there this lonely flower will love to grow.
Think on Amyntas, oft as ye shall stoop
To crop the stalks and take them foftly 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,

And blefs his peaceful grave, where firft they grew.

то

CYNTHIA,

WEEPING, AND NOT SPEAKING.

EL E G Y.

HY are those hours, which Heaven in pity lent

W
To longing love, in fruitless forrow spent ?
Why fighs my fair? why does that bofom move
With any paffion stirr'd, but rifing love?
Can Difcontent find place within that breast,
On whofe foft pillows ev'n Defpair might reft?

Divide thy woes, and give me my fad

part.

I am no stranger to an aching heart;
Too well I know the force of inward grief,
And well can bear it to give you relief:
All Love's feverest pangs I can endure:
I can bear pain, though hopelefs of a cure.
I know what 'tis to weep, and figh, and pray,
To wake all night, yet dread the breaking day;
I know what 'tis to wifh, and hope, and all in vain,
And meet, for humble Love, unkind Difdain;
Anger and Hate I have been forc'd to bear,
Nay, Jealoufy---and I have felt Despair.
These 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.
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.
Through 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 rest be night.
And fhall I all this heaven of bliss receive
From you, yet not lament to see you grieve!
Shall I, who nourish'd in my breast desire,
When your cold fcorn 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

When all my joys complete in you I find,
Shall I not share the forrows of your mind?
O tell me, tell me all---whence does arise

This flood of tears? whence are thefe frequent fighs
Why does that lovely head, like a fair flower
Opprefs'd with drops of a hard-falling fhower,
Bend with its weight of grief, and feem to grow
Downward to earth, and kifs the root of woe?
Lean on my breaft, 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 fhould 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;
Join to my cheek thy cold and dewy face,
And let pale grief to glowing love give place.
O fpeak--- for woe in filence moft appears;
Speak, ere my fancy magnify my fears.
Is there a caufe, which words can not exprefs!
Can I not bear a part, nor make it less ?

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 start!
Am I to be depriv'd then ?---must we part?
Curfe on that word fo ready to be spoke,
For through my lips, unmeant by me, it broke.
Oh no, we must not, will not, can not 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.

FAI

A M мо ORE T.

"I.

AIR Amoret is gone aftray; Purfue and feek her, every lover; I'll tell the figns, by which you may The wandering fhepherdefs discover.

II.

Coquet and coy at once her air,

Both study'd, though both feem neglected; Careless fhe is with artful care,

Affecting to feem unaffected.

III.

With skill her eyes dart every glance,

Yet change fo foon you 'd ne'er fufpect them; For fhe 'd perfuade they wound by chance, Though certain aim and art direct them.

IV.

She likes herfelf, yet others hates

For that which in herself the prizes; And, while fhe laughs at them, forgets

She is the thing that she defpifes.

LES