Lord Hervey (Whofe pictur'd beauties Rome thought fit to place
The facred temples of her gods to grace)
Are charming now no more; the bloom is fled,
The lillies languid, and the rofes death.
Soon fhall fome hand the glorious work deface,
Where Grecian pencils tell what Flora was:
No longer my refemblance they impart,
They loft their likeness, when I loft thy heart.
Oh! that thofe hours could take their turn
again,
When Pompey, lab'ring with a jealous pain,
His Flora thus befpoke: „Say, my dear love!
Shall all thefe rivals unfucceísful prove?
In vain, for ever, fhall the Roman youth
Envy my happiness, and tempt thy truth?
Shall neither tears nor pray'rs thy pity move?
Ah! give not pity, 'tis aking to love.
„Would Flora were not fair in fuch excess,
That I might fear, tho' not adore her lefs."
Fool that I was, I fought to eale that grief
Nor knew indiff'rence follow'd the relief:
Experience taught the cruel truth too late,
I never dreaded, till I found my fate.
'Twas mine to ask if Pompey's felf could hear,
Unmov'd, his rivals unsuccessful pray'r;
To make thee fwear he'd not thy pity move;
Alas! fuch pity is no kin to love.
'Twas thou thyself (ungrateful as thou art!)
Bade me unbend the rigour of my heart:
You chid my faith, reproach'd my being true,
(Unnat'ral thought!) and labour'd to fubdue?
The conftancy my foul maintain'd for you;
To other arms your mistress you condemn'd,
- Too cool a lover, and too warm a friend.
How could'st thou thus my lavish heart abuse, To ask the only thing it could refuse?
Nor yet upbraid me, Pompey, what I fay,
For 'tis my merit that I can't obey;
Yet this alledg'd againft me as a fault,
Thy rage fomented, and my ruin wrought.
Juft gods! what tye, what conduct can prevail
O'er fickle inan, when truth like mine can fail?
Urge not, to glofs thy crime, the name of
friend,
We know, how far thofe facred laws extend;
Since other heroes have not blush'd to prove
How weak all paffions when oppos'd to love:
Nor boast the virtuous conflict of thy heart,
When gen'rous pity took Geminius' part;
?Tis all heroic fraud, and Roman art.
Such flights of honour might amuse the crowd,
But by a mistress ne'er can be allow'd;
Keep for the fenate, and the grave debate
That infamous hypocrify of ftate;
There words are virtue, and your trade deceit.)
No riddle is thy change, not hard t'explain;
Flora was fond, and Pompey was a man:
No longer then a fpecious tale pretend,
Nor plead fictitious merit to your friend:
By nature falfe, you follow'd her decree,
Nor gen'rous are to him, but falle to me.
You fay, you melted at Geminius' tears,
You fay, you felt his agonizing cares:
Grofs artifice, that this from him could move,
And not from Flora, whom you fay you love:
You could not bear to hear your rival figh,
Yet bear unmov'd to fee your mistress die.
Inhuman hypocrite! not thus can he
My wrongs, and my diftrefs, obdurate, fee.
He, who receiv'd condemns the gift you made,
And joins with me the giver upbraid,
Forgetting he's oblig'd, and mourning I'm betray'd.j
He loves too well that cruel gift to ufe,
Which Pompey lov'd too little to refufe:
Lord Hervey. Fain would he call my vagrant lord again,
But I the kind embaffador reftrain;
I fcorn to let another take my part,
And to myself will owe or lofe thy heart.
Can nothing e'er rekindle love in thee?
Can nothing e'er extinguish it in me?
That I could tear thee from this injur'd breaft!
And where you gave my perfon, give the reft,
At once to grant and punish thy request.
That I could place thy worthy rival there!
No fecond infult need my fondnels fear;
He views not Flora with her Pompey's eyes,
He loves like me, he doats, defpairs, and dies.
Come to my arms, thou dear, deferving youth!
Thou prodigy of man! thou man with truth!
For him, I will redouble every care,
To please, for him, these faded charms repair;
To crown his vows, and fharpen thy defpair.
Oh! 'tis illufion all! and idle rage!
No fecond paffion can this heart engage;
And fhortly, Pompey, hall thy Flora prove,
Death may diffolve, but nothing change her love.
Die in folgender, mit vieler Wärme und lebhafter Eme pfindung geschriebenen, Heroide zum Grunde liegende Ges schichte ist aus dem eilften Stücke des Spectator, und der Glertschen Erzählung bekannt genug. Jener nahm sie, aus Ligon's Nachrichten von Barbados. Man muß sich die unglückliche Nariko, da sie diesen Brief an Inkle schrieb, schon von ihm, aus unverantwortlichem Eigennut, verras then und verkauft denken.
ITH falsehood lurking in thy fordid breast, And perj'ry's feal upon thy heart impreft,
Dar'ft thou, o Chriftian! brave the founding wa
The treach'rous whirlwinds, and untrophied gra ves?
Regardless of my woes fecurely go,
No curfe fraught accents from thefe lips fhall
flow;
My fondest wish shall catch thy flying fail,
Attend thy courfe, and urge the fav'ring gale:
May ev'ry blifs thy God confers be thine,
And all thy fhare of woe compris'd in mine..
One humble boon is all I now implore,
Allow these feet to print their kindred thore.
Give me, o Albion's fon, again to roam
For thee deferted my delightful home:
To view the groves that deck my native scene,
The limpid ftream, that graceful glides between:
Retrieve the fame I fpurn'd at Love's decree,
Afcend the throne which I forfook for thee:
Jerningham. Approach the bow'r
Where once thy YARICO to thee was dear.
The fcenes the hand of time has thrown be-
hind,
Return impetuous to my bufy mind:
"What hoftile veffel quits the roaring tide
To harbour here its tempeft-beaten fide?
„Behold the beach receives the ship - wreck'd
„Oh mark their strange attire and pallid hue!
Are thefe the Chriftians, restless fons of pride, "By av'rice nurtur'd, to deceit allied?
Who tread with cunning step the maze of art, ,,And mask with placid looks a canker'd heart? Yet note, fuperior to the num'rous throng, (Ev'n as the citron humbler plants among) That youth! Lo! beauty on his graceful
With nameless charms bids ev'ry feature glow,
Ah! leave, fair ftranger, this unfocial ground,
Where danger broods, and fury ftalks around:
Behold thy foes advance my steps purfue
To where I'll fcreen thee from their fatal view:
He comes, he comes! th' ambrofial feaft prepare,
"The fig, the palm-juice, nor th' anâna ipare:
,,In fpacious canisters nor fail to bring
The fcented foliage of the blufhing fpring: "Ye graceful handmaids, drefs the rofeate bow'r, And hail with mufic this aufpicious hour;
Ah no! forbear be ev'ry lyre unftrung,
,,More pleafing mufic warbles from his tongue;
Yet, utter not to me the lover's vow,
„All, all is thine that friendship can bestow:
,,Our laws, my ftation, check the guilty flame,
"Why was I born, ye powers, a Nubian dame?
Yet fee around at Love's enchanting call,
Stern laws fubmit, and vain diftinétions fall: And mortals then enjoy life's tranfient day, "When fmit with paffion they indulge the way:
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