107
The Relapse.
(So could it be) should draw the public Eye,
The Gaze and Contemplation of Mankind!
A Constellation aweful, yet benign,
To guide the Gay thro' Life's tempestuous Wave;
Nor suffer them to strike the common Rock,
"From greater Danger to grow more secure,
"And, wrapt in Happiness, forget their Fate."
Lysander, happy past the common Lot,
Was warn'd of Danger, but too gay to fear.
He woo'd the fair Aspasia: She was kind:
In Youth, Form, Fortune, Fame, they both were blest:
All who knew, envy'd; yet in Envy lov'd:
Can Fancy form more finisht Happiness?
Fixt was the Nuptial Hour. Her stately Dome
Rose on the sounding Beach. The glitt'ring Spires
Float in the Wave, and break against the Shore:
So break those glitt'ring Shadows, Human Joys.
The faithless Morning smil'd: He takes his Leave,
To re-embrace in Ecstasies, at Eve.
The rising Storm forbids. The News arrives:
Untold, she saw it in her Servant's Eye.
She felt it seen (her Heart was apt to feel);
And, drown'd, without the furious Ocean's Aid,
In suffocating Sorrows, shares his Tomb.
Now, round the sumptuous, Bridal Monument,
The guilty Billows innocently roar;
And the rough Sailor passing drops a Tear.
A Tear?—-Can Tears suffice?-But not for me.
How vain our Efforts! and our Arts, how vain!
The distant Train of Thought I took, to shun,
Has thrown me on my Fate—These dy'd together;
Happy in Ruin! undivorc'd by Death!
Or ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is Peace—
Narcissa! Pity bleeds at Thought of Thee.
The Gaze and Contemplation of Mankind!
A Constellation aweful, yet benign,
To guide the Gay thro' Life's tempestuous Wave;
Nor suffer them to strike the common Rock,
"From greater Danger to grow more secure,
"And, wrapt in Happiness, forget their Fate."
Lysander, happy past the common Lot,
Was warn'd of Danger, but too gay to fear.
He woo'd the fair Aspasia: She was kind:
In Youth, Form, Fortune, Fame, they both were blest:
All who knew, envy'd; yet in Envy lov'd:
Can Fancy form more finisht Happiness?
Fixt was the Nuptial Hour. Her stately Dome
Rose on the sounding Beach. The glitt'ring Spires
Float in the Wave, and break against the Shore:
So break those glitt'ring Shadows, Human Joys.
The faithless Morning smil'd: He takes his Leave,
To re-embrace in Ecstasies, at Eve.
The rising Storm forbids. The News arrives:
Untold, she saw it in her Servant's Eye.
She felt it seen (her Heart was apt to feel);
And, drown'd, without the furious Ocean's Aid,
In suffocating Sorrows, shares his Tomb.
Now, round the sumptuous, Bridal Monument,
The guilty Billows innocently roar;
And the rough Sailor passing drops a Tear.
A Tear?—-Can Tears suffice?-But not for me.
How vain our Efforts! and our Arts, how vain!
The distant Train of Thought I took, to shun,
Has thrown me on my Fate—These dy'd together;
Happy in Ruin! undivorc'd by Death!
Or ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is Peace—
Narcissa! Pity bleeds at Thought of Thee.
Yet
