Defcribing the forrow of an ingenuous mind, on the melancholy event of a licentious amour.

WHY mourns my friend! why weeps his downcaft eye?

That eye where mirth, where fancy us'd to fhine?

Thy chearful meads reprove that fwelling figh;
Spring ne'er enamel'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?
Bleft in thy song, and bleft in ev'ry grace

That wins the friend, or that enchants the fair?

DAMON, faid he, thy partial praise restrain

;

Not DAMON's friendship can my peace restore; Alas! his very praise awakes my pain,

And my poor wounded bofom bleeds the more.

For oh! that nature on my birth had frown'd!
Or fortune fix'd me to fome lowly cell!
Then had my bofom 'fcap'd this fatal wound,
Nor had I bid thefe vernal fweets, farewel.

But led by fortune's hand, her darling child,
My youth her vain licentious blifs admir'd;
In fortune's train the fyren flatt'ry fmil'd,
And rafhly hallow'd all her queen infpir'd.

VOL. I.

H

Of

Of folly ftudious, ev❜n of vices vain,
Ah vices! gilded by the rich and gay!
I chas'd the guilelefs daughters of the plain,
Nor dropt the chace, till JESSY was my prey.

Poor artless maid! to ftain thy fpotless name,
Expence, and art, and toil, united strove;
To lure a breast that felt the purest flame,
Sustain❜d by virtue, but betray'd by love.

School'd in the fcience of love's mazy wiles,

I cloath'd each feature with affected scorn; I fpoke of jealous doubts, and fickle fmiles,

And, feigning, left her anxious and forlorn.

Then, while the fancy'd rage alarm'd her care,
Warm to deny, and zealous to difprove;
I bade my words the wonted foftness wear,
And feiz'd the minute of returning love.

To thee, my DAMON, dare I paint the reft?
Will yet thy love a candid ear incline?
Affur'd that virtue, by misfortune prest,
Feels not the sharpness of a pang like mine.

Nine envious moons matur'd her growing fhame; Ere while to flaunt it in the face of day; When fcorn'd of virtue, ftigmatiz'd by fame, Low at my feet defponding JESSY lay.

" HENRY,

" HENRY, fhe faid, by thy dear form fubdu'd,
See the fad reliques of a nymph undone !
I find, I find this rifing fob renew'd:

I figh in fhades, and ficken at the fun.

Amid the dreary gloom of night, I cry,

When will the morn's once pleafing scenes return? Yet what can morn's returning ray fupply,

But foes that triumph, or but friends that mourn!

Alas! no more that joyous morn appears
That led the tranquil hours of fpotless fame;
For I have steep'd a father's couch in tears,
And ting'd a mother's glowing cheek with fhame.

The vocal birds that raise their matin strain,
The sportive lambs, increase my penfive moan;
All seem to chase me from the chearful plain,
And talk of truth and innocence alone.

If thro' the garden's flow'ry tribes I stray,
Where bloom the jasmins that could once allure,
Hope not to find delight in us, they say,
For we are spotlefs, 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 fo fragrant, and was not fo 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 fake I fhun each human eye;
I bid the sweets of blooming youth adieu;
To die I languish, but I dread to die,

Left my fad fate fhou'd nourish pangs for you.

Raife me from earth; the pains of want remove,
And let me filent feek fome friendly shore;
There only, banish'd from the form I love,
My weeping virtue fhall relapse no more.

Be but my friend; I afk no dearer name;
Be fuch the meed of fome more artful fair;
Nor could it heal my peace, or chase my shame,
That pity gave, what love refus'd to fhare.

Force not my tongue to afk its scanty bread;
Nor hurl thy JESSY to the vulgar crew;
Not fuch the parent's board at which I fed!
Not fuch the precept from his lips I drew!

Haply, when age has filver'd o'er my hair,
Malice may learn to fcorn fo mean a fpoil;
Envy may flight a face no longer fair;

And pity, welcome, to my native foil."

She

She fpoke-nor was I born of favage race;
Nor could thefe hands a niggard boon affign;
Grateful fhe clafp'd me in a laft embrace,

And vow'd to wafte her life in pray'rs for mine.

I faw her foot the lofty bark afcend;

I saw her breaft with every paffion heave; I left her-torn from every earthly friend; Oh! my hard bofom, which could bear to leave!

Brief let me be; the fatal storm arose;
The billows rag'd; the pilot's art was vain;
O'er the tall mast the circling furges clofe;
My JESSY-floats upon the watʼry plain!

And-fee my youth's impetuous fires decay;
Seek not to ftop reflection's bitter tear;
But warn the frolic, and inftruct the gay,
From JESSY floating on her wat'ry bier!