Through all her works !), he must delight in virtue ! CÆSAR! [Laying his hand on his sword. Thus am I doubly armed! My death and life, My bane and antidote, are both before me! This, in a moment, brings me to an end; But this informs me, I shall never die! The Soul, secured in her existence, smiles At the drawn dagger, and defies its point! The stars shall fade away, the sun himself Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years: But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth; Unhurt amidst the war of Elements, The wrecks of Matter, and the crush of Worlds ! What means this heaviness, that hangs upon me? This lethargy, that creeps through all my senses? Nature, oppressed and harassed out with care, Sinks down to rest. This once, I'll favour her! That my awakened Soul may take her flight, Renewed in all her strength, and fresh with life, An offring fit for Heaven! Let guilt, or fear, Disturb Man's rest: Cato knows neither of them! Indiffrent in his choice, to sleep, or die. Why, DAMON! why, why, why so pressing ? Beauty 's worthless! fading! flying! Fix, fix your thoughts on what 's inviting ! On what will never bear the slighting ! Wit and Virtue claim your duty! They're much more worth than Gold and Beauty! To them, to them, your heart resign; And you'll no more, no more repine! WHEN DAPHNE first her Shepherd saw; A sudden trembling seized her! She durst not view what pleased her! When, at her feet, he sighing lay, She found her heart complying ; To save her Swain from dying ! To see her dextrous feigning. The Shepherd leave complaining ! Cease, fair CALISTRIS ! cease disdaining ! 'Tis time to leave that useless art! Your Shepherd 's weary of complaining! Be kind; or he'll resume his heart! CALISTRIS. Damon, be gone! I hate complying ! Go, court some fond, believing Maid ! I take more pleasure in denying, Than in the conquests I have made ! Damon. Why, cruel Nymph! why, why so slighting ? Is this the treatment I must have? I would no longer be your slave! Your heart 's not worth the having ! Were there ten thousand Shepherds dying ; Not one were worth the saving ! Of all the torments, all the cares, With which our lives are curst; Of all the plagues a Lover bears, Sure, Rivals are the worst ! Afflictions easier grow! Companions of our woe! Sylvia! for all the pangs you see Are lab'ring in my breast, Would you but slight the rest! How great soe'er your rigours are; With them alone, I'll cope! But not another's hope ! THE DESPAIRING LOVER. DISTRACTED with care Since nothing could move her, Poor Damon, her Lover, No longer to languish, But, mad with his love, To a precipice goes; Where a leap from above Would soon finish his woes ! When, in rage, he came there, Beholding how steep The sides did appear, And the bottom how deep! His torments projecting, And sadly reflecting That a Lover forsaken, A new Love may get ; But a neck, when once broken, Can never be set ! And that he could die Whenever he would; But that he could live But as long as he could ! How grievous soever The torment might grow; He scorned to endeavour To finish it so! But bold, unconcerned At thoughts of the pain, He calmly returned To his cottage again. |