Go then, seek her humble grave, JESSY. Describing the Sorrow of an ingenuous Mind, on the melancholy Event of a licentious Amour. Shenstone. WHY mourns my friend? why weeps his downcast eye? That eye where mirth, where fancy us'd to shine? Thy chearful meads reprove that swelling sigh; Spring ne'er enamell'd fairer meads than thine. Art thou not lodg'd in Fortune's warm embrace? Wert thou not form'd by Nature's partial care? Blest in thy song, and blest in ev'ry grace, That wins the friend, or that enchants the fair? Damon, said he, thy partial praise restrain; Not Damon's friendship can my peace restore; Alas! his very praise awakes my pain, And my poor wounded bosom bleeds the more. But, led by Fortune's hand, her darling child, Of folly studious, ev'n of vices vain, To thee my Damon, dare I paint the rest? Nine envious moons matur'd her growing shame, "Henry," she said, "by thy dear form subdu'd, "Amid the dreary gloom of night, I cry, "When will the morn's once pleasing scenes return? "Yet what can morn's returning ray supply, "But foes that triumph, or but friends that mourn! "Alas! no more that joyous morn appears "That led the tranquil hours of spotless fame "For I have steep'd a father's couch in tears, 66 And ting'd a mother's glowing cheek with shame. "The vocal birds, that raise their matin strain, "The sportive lambs, increase my pensive moan; "All seem to chase me from the cheerful plain, 66 And talk of truth and innocence alone. "If thro' the garden's flow'ry tribes I stray, "Where bloom the jasmines that could once allure, 66 66 66 Hope not to find delight in us, they say, "For we are spotless, Jessy; we are pure. Ye flow'rs! that well reproach a nymph so frail, Say, could ye with my virgin fame compare? "The brightest bud that scents the vernal gale "Was not so fragrant, and was not so fair: "Now the grave old alarm the gentler young, "And all my fame's abhorr'd contagion flee; Trembles each lip, and faulters every tongue, "That bids the morn propitious smile on me. "Thus for your sake I shun each human eye; "I bid the sweets of blooming youth adieu; To die I languish, but I dread to die, 66 66 "Lest my sad fate should nourish pangs for you. "Raise me from earth; the pains of want remove, And let me silent seek some friendly shore; "There only, banish'd from the form I love, 66 66 My weeping virtue shall relapse no more. 66 Be but my friend; I ask no dearer name; "Be such the meed of some more artful fair; "Nor could it heal my peace, or chase my shame, That pity gave what love refus'd to share. E "Force not my tongue to ask its scanty bread, "Nor hurl thy Jessy to the vulgar crew; "Not such the parent's board at which I fed! "Not such the precepts from his lips I drew! "Haply, when age has silver'd o'er my hair, "Malice may learn to scorn so mean a spoil; Envy may slight a face no longer fair; "And Pity welcome to my native soil." She spoke nor was I born of savage race, I saw her foot the lofty bark ascend; I saw her breast with every passion heave; And, see my youth's impetuous fires decay; TO MRS. UNWIN.-Cowper. Thy spirits have a fainter flow, I see thee daily weaker grow- Thy needles, once a shining store! For though thou gladly would'st fulfil Have wound themselves about this heart, My Mary! Thy indistinct expressions seem Thy silver locks, once auburn bright! My Mary! For could I view nor them nor thee, My Mary! Partakers of thy sad decline, My Mary! Such feebleness of limbs thou prov'st, With me is to be lovely still, My Mary! |