FLORELIO.
23
Sad in her native grove she sits alone,
There hangs her wings, and murmurs out her moan;
So the bright shepherdess, who bore the boy, 151
Beneath a baleful yew does weeping lie;
Nor can the fair the weighty woe sustain,
But bends, like roses crush'd with falling rain;
Nor from the silent earth her eyes removes, 155
That, weeping, languish like a dying dove's.
Not such her look (severe reverse of fate!)
When little Loves in ev'ry dimple fate;
And all the Smiles delighted to resort
On the calm heav'n of her soft cheeks to sport; 160
Soft as the clouds mild April ev'nings wear,
Which drop fresh flow'rets on the youthful year.
The fountain's fall can't lull her wakeful woes,
Nor poppy-garlands give the nymph repose:
Th'ro' prickly brakes and unfrequented groves, 165
O'er hills and dales, and craggy cliffs, she roves;
And when she spies, beneath some silent shade,
The daisies press'd where late his limbs were laid,
To the cold print there close she joins her face,
And all with gushing tears bedews the grass: 170
There with loud plaints she wounds the pitying skies,
"And, oh! return, my lovely Youth!" she cries;
"Return, Florelio! with thy wonted charms
"Fill the soft circle of my longing arms."—
Cease, fair Affliction! cease; the lovely boy 175
In Death's cold arms must pale and breathless lie;
There hangs her wings, and murmurs out her moan;
So the bright shepherdess, who bore the boy, 151
Beneath a baleful yew does weeping lie;
Nor can the fair the weighty woe sustain,
But bends, like roses crush'd with falling rain;
Nor from the silent earth her eyes removes, 155
That, weeping, languish like a dying dove's.
Not such her look (severe reverse of fate!)
When little Loves in ev'ry dimple fate;
And all the Smiles delighted to resort
On the calm heav'n of her soft cheeks to sport; 160
Soft as the clouds mild April ev'nings wear,
Which drop fresh flow'rets on the youthful year.
The fountain's fall can't lull her wakeful woes,
Nor poppy-garlands give the nymph repose:
Th'ro' prickly brakes and unfrequented groves, 165
O'er hills and dales, and craggy cliffs, she roves;
And when she spies, beneath some silent shade,
The daisies press'd where late his limbs were laid,
To the cold print there close she joins her face,
And all with gushing tears bedews the grass: 170
There with loud plaints she wounds the pitying skies,
"And, oh! return, my lovely Youth!" she cries;
"Return, Florelio! with thy wonted charms
"Fill the soft circle of my longing arms."—
Cease, fair Affliction! cease; the lovely boy 175
In Death's cold arms must pale and breathless lie;
