Tho' you contemn, the gods refpect his vow; Vindictive rage awaits the fcornful mind, And vengeance, too fevere! the gods allow. On SARUM's plain I met a wand'ring fair; The look of forrow, lovely ftill fhe bore: Oft stooping as she ftray'd, fhe cull'd the pride And still her hand fome various garland wove. Erroneous fancy fhap'd her wild attire ; From BETHLEM's walls the poor lympatic stray'd; Seem'd with her air her accent to confpire, When, as wild fancy taught her, thus fhe faid. "Hear me, dear youth! oh hear an hapless maid, The world is frantic-fly the race profane- Come friendly let us wander, and complain, And tell me, fhepherd! haft thou seen my love? My My love is young-but other loves are youngs He is my love, who boasts that air divine. No vulgar DAMON robs me of my rest, A prince, from gods defcended, fires her breaft What, fhall I ftain the glories of my race? See thro' these veins the faphire current shine! The painter ftrove to trace its azure ray; He chang'd his colours, and in vain he strove; He frown'd-I fmiling view'd the faint effay; Poor youth! he little knew it flow'd from Jove. Pitying his toil, the wond'rous truth I told; Our facred race; thro' demigods, convey'd; And he, ally'd to PHOEBUS, ever young, My god-like boy, muft wed their duteous maid. Oft, when a mortal vow profanes my ear, Have you not heard unwonted thunders roll! Have you not seen more horrid light'nings glare! 'Twas then a vulgar love enfnar'd my foul; 'Twas then-I hardly fcap'd the fatal fnare. 'Twas then a peafant pour'd his amorous vow, But oh! I faint! why waftes my vernal bloom, When last I flept, methought, my ravish'd eye, The O how O how this bosom kindled at the fight! Led by their beams I urg'd the pleafing chace; Till, on a fudden, these with-held their light— All, all things envy the fublime embrace. But now no more-behind the diftant grove, Wanders my deftin'd youth, and chides, my ftay See, fee, he grafps the fteel-forbear, my loveIANTHE Comes; thy princess haftes away." Scornful she spoke, and heedless of reply Ah me! the victim of her proud disdain ! ELEGY He indulges the fuggeftions of Spleen: an elegy to the winds. Eole, namque tibi divum pater atque hominum rex TERN monarch of the winds, admit my pray'r! STEE Awhile thy fury check, thy ftorms confine! No trivial blast impells the paffive air, But brews a tempest in a breast like mine. What bands of black ideas fpread their wings! I know their leader, fpleen; and dread the sway Thro' one my bloffoms and my fruits decay; Like fome pale ftripling, when his icy way Where |