DELIA, AN ELEGY. Anna Laetitia Barbauld (née Aikin) Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T236 K019955.000 Barbauld, Mrs. (Anna Letitia), 1743-1825. Poems. London printed for Joseph Johnson 1773 pp. 82-87. vi,138p. ; 4⁰.

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DELIA , AN ELEGY . — tecum ut longae sociarem gaudia vitae , Inque tuo caderet nostra senecta sinu . TIBUL . YES , DELIA loves ! My fondest vows are blest ; Farewel the memory of her past disdain ; One kind relenting glance has heal'd my breast , And balanc'd in a moment years of pain . O'er her soft cheek consenting blushes move , And with kind stealth her secret soul betray ; Blushes , which usher in the morn of love , Sure as the red'ning east foretels the day . Her tender smiles shall pay me with delight For many a bitter pang of jealous fear ; For many an anxious day , and sleepless night , For many a stifled sigh , and silent tear . DELIA shall come , and bless my lone retreat ; She does not scorn the shepherd's lowly life ; She will not blush to leave the splendid seat , And own the title of a poor man's wife . The simple knot shall bind her gather'd hair , The russet garment clasp her lovely breast : DELIA shall mix amongst the rural fair , By charms alone distinguish'd from the rest . And meek Simplicity , neglected maid , Shall bid my fair in native graces shine : She , only she , shall lend her modest aid , Chaste , sober priestess , at sweet beauty's shrine ! How sweet to muse by murmuring springs reclin'd ; Or loitering careless in the shady grove , Indulge the gentlest feelings of the mind , And pity those who live to aught but love ! When DELIA's hand unlocks her shining hair , And o'er her shoulder spreads the flowing gold , Base were the man who one bright tress would spare For all the ore of India's coarser mold . By her dear side with what content I'd toil , Patient of any labour in her sight ; Guide the slow plough , or turn the stubborn soil , Till the last , ling'ring beam of doubtful light . But softer tasks divide my DELIA's hours ; To watch the firstlings at their harmless play ; With welcome shade to screen the languid flowers , That sicken in the summer's parching ray . Oft will she stoop amidst her evening walk , With tender hand each bruised plant to rear ; To bind the drooping lily's broken stalk , And nurse the blossoms of the infant year . When beating rains forbid our feet to roam , We'll shelter'd sit , and turn the storied page ; There see what passions shake the lofty dome With mad ambition or ungovern'd rage : What headlong ruin oft involves the great ; What conscious terrors guilty bosoms prove ; What strange and sudden turns of adverse fate Tear the sad virgin from her plighted love . DELIA shall read , and drop a gentle tear ; Then cast her eyes around the low-roof'd cot , And own the fates have dealt more kindly here , That blest with only love our little lot . For love has sworn ( I heard the awful vow ) The wav'ring heart shall never be his care , That stoops at any baser shrine to bow : And what he cannot rule , he scorns to share . My heart in DELIA is so fully blest , It has not room to lodge another joy ; My peace all leans upon that gentle breast , And only there misfortune can annoy . Our silent hours shall steal unmark'd away In one long tender calm of rural peace ; And measure many a fair unblemish'd day Of chearful leisure and poetic ease . The proud unfeeling world their lot shall scorn Who 'midst inglorious shades can poorly dwell : Yet if some youth , for gentler passions born , Shall chance to wander near our lowly cell , His feeling breast with purer flames shall glow ; And leaving pomp , and state , and cares behind , Shall own the world has little to bestow Where two fond hearts in equal love are join'd .