FELIX
and
CONSTANCE
.
A
POEM
,
taken
from
BOCCACE
.
To
the
Right
Honourable
the
Countess
of
POMFRET
.
BLOWN
on
the
rolling
Surface
of
the
Deep
,
The
mourning
Maid
at
length
reclines
to
Sleep
;
While
conscious
Visions
labour
in
her
Breast
,
And
airy
Spectres
discompose
her
Rest
.
Sometimes
she
seems
upon
her
native
Shore
,
Bless'd
with
the
beauteous
Youth
,
as
heretofore
;
Hears
him
converse
,
while
from
his
tuneful
Tongue
Melodious
Sense
,
in
melting
Music
,
rung
:
Sometimes
she
finds
,
or
seems
at
least
to
find
,
His
shatter'd
Vessel
forc'd
before
the
Wind
,
With
foaming
Waves
,
and
furious
Tempests
tost
,
The
Mast
,
and
broken
Sails
,
and
Sailers
lost
:
Sometimes
her
Dream
,
in
frightful
Forms
,
display'd
A
Crowd
of
Martyrs
,
cruel
Love
had
made
;
Lamenting
THISBE's
Shade
before
her
stands
,
Shews
her
capacious
Wound
,
and
purple
Hands
;
Now
Lyric
SAPPHO
in
the
Tide
expires
,
Now
faithful
PORCIA
eats
the
living
Fires
.
At
length
,
awaking
from
her
Dream
,
she
hears
A
Latian
Voice
,
which
thus
salutes
her
Ears
:
UNHAPPY
Christian
Maid
!
(
for
such
,
at
least
,
You
,
by
your
decent
Habit
,
seem
exprest
)
Say
whence
you
came
,
and
hither
how
convey'd
,
Expos'd
to
Sea
,
without
the
Seaman's
Aid
?
SOON
as
the
Nymph
her
native
Language
hears
,
Her
frighted
Soul
was
fill'd
with
Doubts
and
Fears
:
She
thought
,
the
adverse
Wind
,
or
refluent
Main
,
Had
forc'd
her
back
to
Liparis
again
;
Till
,
starting
up
,
a
spacious
Land
she
spies
;
Barbarian
Caves
and
Cots
her
Sight
surprize
:
She
sees
a
Matron
on
the
neighb'ring
Strand
;
Nor
knows
the
Matron
,
nor
the
neighb'ring
Land
.
O
!
whither
,
whither
am
I
blown
?
she
cries
;
What
Dens
and
Caves
appear
before
my
Eyes
?
And
who
inhabit
'em
?
or
Beasts
of
Prey
,
Or
Men
,
less
kind
,
and
crueller
than
they
?
To
whom
the
Matron
:
Fly
,
nor
dare
to
trust
.
The
faithless
People
of
this
hated
Coast
:
Here
Sailers
oft
their
hapless
Fate
deplore
;
Who
scape
the
Seas
,
are
wreck'd
upon
the
Shore
:
For
,
when
the
forceful
Wind
,
and
foaming
Deep
,
To
this
inhuman
Coast
impel
the
Ship
;
Around
the
Beach
the
rude
Barbarians
stray
,
Destroy
the
Mariners
,
and
seize
their
Prey
;
By
others
Death
,
they
keep
themselves
alive
,
Subsist
by
Rapine
,
and
by
Ruin
thrive
.
UNHAPPY
Fate
!
the
mourning
Nymph
reply'd
;
O
!
had
I
perish'd
in
the
safer
Tide
!
For
much
I
fear
,
the
Land
I
now
survey
,
Dooms
me
to
greater
Evils
,
than
the
Sea
:
And
yet
what
greater
Ills
can
Fate
provide
,
Than
thus
to
seek
for
Death
,
and
be
deny'd
?
Not
so
my
FELIX
scap'd
the
raging
Waves
;
Him
NEPTUNE
sunk
,
and
me
unkindly
saves
;
Saves
,
only
to
increase
my
former
Woes
;
To
fall
,
perhaps
,
by
more
ungen'rous
Foes
;
Or
to
indulge
some
lustful
Tyrant's
Will
:
But
,
O
ye
Heav'ns
!
avert
the
fatal
Ill
;
Protect
my
Honour
in
this
foreign
Coast
,
The
only
Blessing
which
I
have
not
lost
!
THE
list'ning
Matron
wonders
with
Surprize
;
Nor
hears
,
unmov'd
,
the
weeping
Damsel's
Cries
:
But
leads
her
to
her
neighb'ring
Cottage
,
where
She
chears
her
fainting
Soul
with
homely
Fare
;
Condoles
her
Grief
,
and
begs
her
to
disclose
Her
Country
,
Cares
,
and
Cause
of
all
her
Woes
.
Excited
by
her
Words
,
the
pensive
Maid
Preludes
with
Sighs
,
and
thus
,
reluctant
,
said
:
O
hospitable
Dame
!
why
would
you
move
A
Wretch
to
tell
a
Tale
of
hapless
Love
?
Which
,
in
relating
,
must
renew
my
Grief
;
Nor
can
I
hope
,
nor
you
bestow
,
Relief
:
Yet
,
since
you
seem
a
Partner
of
my
Care
,
'Tis
just
a
Partner
know
the
Weight
I
bear
.
NOT
far
from
Aetna's
flaming
Mount
I
came
,
From
Liparis
,
and
CONSTANCE
is
my
Name
:
Great
Honours
and
Estates
my
Sire
possess'd
,
And
,
O
!
too
much
to
make
his
Daughter
bless'd
.
I
once
with
Fame
and
Fortune
was
supply'd
,
Nor
envy'd
Empresses
their
Pomp
and
Pride
;
Now
,
like
a
Meteor
,
fallen
from
its
Height
,
My
Glory's
vanish'd
,
and
extinct
my
Light
—
Full
twenty
Years
in
Happiness
I
pass'd
,
And
ev'ry
Year
was
happier
than
the
last
.
Young
FELIX
then
his
Love
began
to
show
;
(
Young
FELIX
was
the
Cause
of
all
my
Woe
)
A
beauteous
Youth
,
endow'd
with
manly
Grace
;
But
far
his
noble
Soul
excell'd
his
Face
:
And
,
tho'
his
niggard
Fate
had
Wealth
deny'd
,
The
Want
of
Wealth
by
Virtue
was
supply'd
.
Two
Years
to
win
my
doubtful
Heart
he
strove
,
Two
Years
my
doubtful
Heart
declin'd
his
Love
:
Yet
still
he
press'd
me
with
his
am'rous
Tale
,
Nor
found
at
length
,
'twas
fruitless
to
assail
:
For
,
by
degrees
,
insensibly
I
came
To
first
approve
,
and
then
indulge
,
his
Flame
;
Nor
could
his
Suit
,
nor
would
his
Vows
reprove
;
I
heard
with
Joy
,
nor
thought
it
Sin
to
love
;
Till
in
my
Breast
imperious
CUPID
reign'd
:
Alas
!
how
easy
Love
a
Conquest
gain'd
!
And
now
my
Reason
check'd
my
Will
no
more
;
But
fed
the
Flame
,
it
strove
to
quench
before
:
Yet
durst
not
an
immodest
Thought
approve
;
Love
rul'd
my
Heart
,
but
Honour
rul'd
my
Love
:
I
scorn'd
to
stain
my
Virtue
with
a
King
;
As
much
my
Lover
scorn'd
so
mean
a
thing
.
What
could
we
do
?
What
cannot
Love
inspire
?
The
Youth
reveals
his
Passion
to
my
Sire
;
And
in
such
melting
Accents
made
it
known
,
As
might
have
mov'd
all
Fathers
,
but
my
own
:
But
proudly
he
my
Lover's
Suit
repell'd
;
And
,
frowning
,
thus
our
mutual
Ruin
seal'd
:
No
more
,
presumptuous
Youth
!
thy
Passion
name
;
Suppress
the
Sparks
,
before
they
rise
to
Flame
.
How
dar'st
thou
,
vulgar
Wretch
,
ignobly
born
,
My
Daughter's
Scandal
,
and
her
Father's
Scorn
!
Aspire
to
wed
so
far
above
thy
Fate
?
He
sternly
said
,
and
forc'd
him
from
his
Gate
.
O
Avarice
!
what
Evils
dost
thou
cause
,
Breaking
the
Bands
of
Love
,
and
Nature's
Laws
?
Go
,
hungry
God
!
and
rule
the
Narrow-soul'd
;
Collect
,
and
guard
their
curst
,
bewitching
Gold
;
Fit
Province
for
thy
Reign
!
too
mean
to
prove
The
Charms
of
Nuptial
Life
,
and
Joys
of
Love
!
Ah
!
what
avails
to
gain
a
pompous
Name
,
With
boasted
Titles
of
paternal
Fame
,
Deriv'd
from
Ancestors
of
noble
Blood
?
Things
common
to
the
Vicious
,
and
the
Proud
!
Refulgent
Equipage
,
and
gaudy
Shows
,
Fictitious
Ornaments
of
real
Woes
!
If
Love
be
absent
,
Pomp
and
worldly
Gain
But
gild
our
Cares
,
and
varnish
o'er
our
Pain
.
O
!
had
my
cruel
Father
thought
like
me
,
I
ne'er
had
prov'd
the
Dangers
of
the
Sea
,
Nor
ever
wander'd
here
a
banish'd
Maid
;
And
,
O
dear
FELIX
!
thou
hadst
not
been
dead
!
—
So
speaks
the
trembling
Nymph
;
and
,
while
she
speaks
,
The
pearly
Torrents
stream
adown
her
Cheeks
;
Cold
clammy
Sweats
,
and
throbbing
Sighs
arise
,
Slow
moves
the
Blood
,
and
dizzy
roll
her
Eyes
;
So
much
affected
with
her
Lover's
Fate
,
She
struggled
,
groan'd
,
and
fainted
from
her
Seat
.
Her
Hostess
straight
a
grateful
Cordial
sought
,
And
to
her
Lips
applies
the
chearful
Draught
,
Washing
her
Temples
with
reviving
Oil
;
The
vital
Spirits
answer
to
her
Toil
;
The
purple
Tide
begins
to
roll
again
,
Again
diffuses
Life
thro'
ev'ry
Vein
:
And
now
she
sighing
,
rais'd
her
drooping
Head
;
And
,
Is
my
Death
,
she
cries
,
again
delay'd
?
Why
did
you
check
me
on
the
Brink
of
Fate
?
Better
the
Soul
had
fled
her
loathsome
Seat
.
Death
is
the
only
Good
I
wish
to
know
,
End
of
my
Pain
,
and
Period
of
my
Woe
.
To
whom
replies
the
Dame
:
Unhappy
Fair
!
Rely
on
Heav'n
,
nor
let
your
Soul
despair
:
Teach
me
to
give
your
troubled
Heart
Relief
;
Or
teach
me
how
,
at
least
,
to
share
your
Grief
:
Your
mournful
Story
much
affects
my
Mind
;
Yet
something
seems
remaining
still
behind
.
O
!
much
,
CONSTANTIA
says
,
remains
to
come
,
The
fatal
Part
,
that
finishes
my
Doom
:
For
,
when
my
FELIX
,
(
FELIX
now
no
more
!
)
Was
banish'd
from
my
haughty
Father's
Door
,
Not
able
to
obtain
me
for
his
Bride
,
Nor
willing
to
resign
me
,
tho'
deny'd
;
Hope
,
from
Despair
,
his
daring
Soul
conceives
;
A
Bark
he
builds
,
to
plough
the
briny
Waves
:
Then
call'd
a
few
Domestics
to
his
Aid
,
Embrac'd
me
in
his
Arms
,
and
sighing
,
said
:
O
Thou
,
for
ever
dear
,
for
ever
blest
,
At
once
the
Joy
,
and
Trouble
of
my
Breast
!
Since
Poverty
expels
me
from
thy
Arms
,
Since
Wealth
alone
is
worthy
of
thy
Charms
;
I
swear
by
all
the
mighty
Pow'rs
above
,
(
Sad
Fate
,
that
drives
me
from
the
Nymph
I
love
!
)
To
try
my
Fortune
on
remoter
Shores
,
And
seek
the
Gold
,
thy
Sire
so
much
adores
.
Perhaps
the
Planets
,
unpropitious
here
,
In
other
Climes
may
kinder
Aspects
wear
;
May
lead
me
where
the
rocky
Di'monds
lie
,
Or
where
the
golden
Mines
may
Wealth
supply
;
If
not
,
the
last
sad
Pleasure
is
to
die
.
SUCH
was
the
fatal
Vow
he
rashly
made
;
O
fatal
Vow
,
and
fatally
obey'd
!
Struck
dumb
,
my
Tears
the
want
of
Words
supply'd
;
His
,
mixt
with
mine
,
increas'd
the
pearly
Tide
:
Yet
,
lest
I
should
his
Resolution
shake
,
He
rush'd
away
,
and
mounted
on
the
Deck
:
His
hasty
Crew
expand
the
swelling
Sails
,
Strong
rolls
the
Sea
before
impulsive
Gales
;
The
crooked
Keel
the
frothy
Flood
divides
,
Swift
flies
the
Ship
,
and
rushes
thro'
the
Tides
.
MY
Lover
long
my
gazing
Eyes
pursue
;
As
long
my
Lover
kept
me
in
his
View
:
Reluctant
so
,
departing
Souls
prepare
To
wing
their
doubtful
Flight
,
they
know
not
where
;
Reluctant
so
,
expiring
Bodies
lie
,
Nor
willing
these
to
stay
,
nor
those
to
fly
.
TWICE
twenty
Days
I
spent
in
fruitless
Tears
,
Before
the
fatal
Tidings
reach'd
my
Ears
;
How
FELIX
,
sailing
o'er
the
watry
Way
,
Was
wreck'd
on
Rocks
,
and
perish'd
in
the
Sea
.
O
!
then
what
Trouble
,
Grief
,
and
anxious
Care
,
Confus'd
my
Soul
,
and
bent
it
to
Despair
!
I
curs'd
the
Cause
,
that
forc'd
him
to
expire
;
O
Heav'n
!
forgive
me
,
if
I
curs'd
my
Sire
:
I
fled
his
House
,
and
sought
the
lonely
Grove
,
(
The
gloomy
Witness
of
my
former
Love
!
)
Where
,
once
resolv'd
to
seek
the
Shades
below
,
I
drew
the
Knife
,
to
strike
the
mortal
Blow
;
Till
Piety
the
cruel
Thought
supprest
,
And
check'd
the
Roman
Courage
of
my
Breast
:
I
trembling
saw
two
doubtful
Paths
;
nor
knew
,
Which
Path
was
best
to
shun
,
or
which
pursue
;
Opposing
Passions
in
my
Bosom
strove
,
And
Conscience
now
prevail'd
,
and
now
my
Love
.
As
when
the
Wind
and
Tide
a
Contest
make
,
The
Sailer
,
trembling
,
sees
his
Vessel
shake
;
This
way
,
and
that
,
and
both
,
by
turns
reclin'd
,
As
swells
the
Surge
,
or
blows
the
furious
Wind
:
So
was
my
Soul
with
diff'rent
Notions
sway'd
,
Of
this
,
of
that
,
of
both
,
and
all
,
afraid
.
Ah
!
why
should
Mortals
of
their
Reason
boast
,
Which
most
deserts
'em
,
when
they
want
it
most
?
For
,
when
the
troubled
Mind's
confus'd
with
Pain
,
'Tis
but
an
Ignis-fatuus
of
the
Brain
;
Which
,
if
our
wand'ring
Souls
from
Virtue
stray
,
But
leads
us
more
and
more
from
Virtue's
Way
:
So
led
it
me
to
stem
the
devious
Tide
,
And
seek
for
Death
,
where
wretched
FELIX
dy'd
.
NOT
distant
far
,
a
fishing
Vessel
stood
,
Nor
wholly
on
the
Land
,
nor
in
the
Flood
:
Arriv'd
to
this
,
I
row'd
it
from
the
Shore
;
And
,
bent
on
Death
,
the
Tide
I
now
explore
;
Expecting
,
soon
,
the
friendly-furious
Wave
Would
give
my
Troubles
and
myself
a
Grave
.
But
,
when
I
saw
the
Billows
round
me
flow
,
The
boundless
Skies
above
,
and
Seas
below
;
Scar'd
with
the
Terrors
of
the
watry
Space
,
I
wrapt
my
Mantle
round
my
tim'rous
Face
:
Then
lay
me
down
,
to
all
the
Dangers
blind
;
Chance
was
my
Compass
,
and
my
Pilot
,
Wind
.
Blown
here
and
there
,
I
floated
on
the
Deep
,
Which
rock'd
my
Eyes
,
but
not
my
Fears
,
asleep
:
For
now
my
dreaming
Soul
,
in
Fancy's
Maze
,
A
thousand
tragic
airy
Ghosts
surveys
;
Which
flutter'd
round
me
,
and
reproaching
,
said
;
Die
,
Coward
!
follow
FELIX
to
the
Shade
:
Why
wouldst
thou
wish
to
live
,
now
he
is
dead
?
But
when
,
at
length
,
your
friendly
Voice
I
heard
,
My
Vision
ceas'd
,
the
Spectres
disappear'd
.
Thus
have
I
told
,
but
can't
dispel
my
Care
;
For
who
can
conquer
Love
,
or
cure
Despair
?
THUS
she
;
and
thus
CAPRESA
spake
again
:
(
So
was
she
call'd
,
who
wak'd
her
on
the
Main
)
Unhappy
Nymph
!
compose
your
troubled
Mind
,
Nor
doubt
the
gracious
Guide
of
human
Kind
:
That
GOD
,
who
sav'd
you
from
the
foamy
Wave
,
Will
doubtless
guard
the
Life
,
he
deign'd
to
save
.
Vouchsafe
to
take
the
Counsel
I
can
lend
:
At
Susa
Heav'n
has
blest
me
with
a
Friend
,
Much
fam'd
for
Wealth
,
for
pious
Actions
more
;
No
Husband
,
and
no
Children
,
but
the
Poor
:
Let
me
conduct
you
to
her
friendly
Gate
;
(
Too
small
my
Cottage
for
a
Guest
so
great
)
She
will
protect
you
from
Barbarian
Foes
,
With
prudent
Counsel
mitigate
your
Woes
,
And
charm
your
ruffled
Soul
to
soft
Repose
.
BLEST
Partner
of
my
Grief
!
the
Damsel
said
,
Some
Angel
surely
sent
you
to
my
Aid
;
For
now
some
dawning
Rays
of
Hope
appear
,
That
chase
away
the
Clouds
of
dark
Despair
.
This
Pause
of
Pain
,
and
Interval
of
Grace
,
Shall
be
employ'd
in
Search
of
future
Peace
.
Then
guide
,
and
guard
me
to
your
noble
Friend
;
So
may
you
never
want
this
Aid
you
lend
!
And
,
as
we
travel
,
deign
to
let
me
know
,
To
whom
so
many
Thanks
I
justly
owe
;
What
hapless
Fortune
cast
you
on
this
Land
,
What
Occupation
here
employs
your
Hand
.
Sweet
Conversation
may
suspend
my
Care
,
Dispel
my
Grief
,
or
make
it
less
severe
:
So
shall
I
easier
reach
the
neighb'ring
Town
;
And
,
list'ning
to
your
Fate
,
forget
my
own
.
THUS
she
;
and
thus
the
pensive
Dame
replies
:
(
With
briny
Drops
distilling
from
her
Eyes
)
Fain
would
I
,
lovely
Nymph
!
suspend
your
Care
,
Dispel
your
Grief
,
or
make
it
less
severe
:
But
,
were
I
all
my
Fortune
to
explain
,
'Twould
not
alleviate
,
but
increase
your
Pain
;
For
in
your
Soul
such
Sparks
of
Nature
glow
,
As
make
you
share
your
Neighbour's
Joy
or
Woe
.
The
Christian
Faith
I
secretly
embrace
,
Tho'
doom'd
to
dwell
among
a
Pagan
Race
:
Trepanum
wasted
all
my
Bloom
of
Life
,
Where
long
I
liv'd
,
a
Farmer's
happy
Wife
:
My
careful
,
loving
Husband
till'd
the
Soil
,
Nor
was
the
Field
ungrateful
to
his
Toil
:
For
,
ev'ry
Summer
,
CERES
crown'd
the
Plain
;
Each
Autumn
,
fill'd
the
Barn
with
golden
Grain
:
So
thick
the
verdant
Harvest
yearly
stood
,
The
Meadows
seem'd
to
groan
beneath
their
Load
.
Our
fleecy
Flocks
were
fruitful
of
their
Young
,
Hail
were
our
Oxen
,
and
our
Horses
strong
;
Nor
did
our
Kine
of
milky
Produce
fail
,
But
with
distended
Udders
fill'd
the
Pail
.
'Twas
then
,
alas
!
how
often
have
I
cry'd
,
I
would
not
wish
to
be
a
Monarch's
Bride
!
When
all
around
my
little
Infants
came
,
Hung
on
my
Knees
,
and
lisp'd
their
Mama's
Name
;
Or
met
their
Father
with
the
Ev'ning
Ray
,
Embrac'd
his
Neck
,
and
kiss'd
his
Cares
away
.
Soon
as
their
riper
Age
could
Labour
bear
,
We
sent
'em
forth
to
feed
the
fleecy
Care
;
Where
often
have
we
spent
the
Summer's
Day
,
Charm'd
to
behold
the
wanton
Cattle's
Play
.
What
Pleasure
'twas
to
see
the
skipping
Lambs
?
What
Music
,
when
they
bleated
for
their
Dams
?
We
thought
our
Joys
could
never
be
increas'd
;
Love
,
Peace
,
and
Plenty
join'd
to
make
us
bless'd
.
But
see
how
Fortune
holds
her
fickle
Reign
!
She
raises
up
,
to
tumble
down
again
:
For
now
our
Thread
of
Happiness
was
spun
;
The
Gains
of
twenty
Years
were
lost
in
one
.
'Twas
in
the
Season
,
when
the
verdant
Mead
Begins
to
ask
the
Mower's
crooked
Blade
;
Before
the
Wheat
receives
the
yellow
Stain
,
Or
milky
Juice
is
harden'd
into
Grain
;
A
Gale
of
Poison
baleful
EURUS
cast
;
The
vernal
Product
sicken'd
with
the
Blast
;
Our
Meadows
straight
a
saffron
Scene
disclose
,
Our
infant
Apples
quit
the
blighted
Boughs
;
Pease
,
Wheat
,
and
Barley
,
wither'd
in
the
Fields
,
And
Nature
one
abortive
Harvest
yields
:
Nor
stopt
it
here
;
the
flying
Plague
began
To
spread
the
Bane
in
Beasts
,
and
thence
to
Man
:
First
dy'd
our
Sheep
upon
the
russet
Plain
,
Next
swell'd
our
Oxen
with
a
fatal
Blain
;
Here
tumbles
,
o'er
her
Meat
,
the
moping
Cow
;
There
drops
the
panting
Horse
before
the
Plough
:
At
length
the
dire
Contagion
spread
so
wide
,
My
Virgin
Children
made
the
Tomb
their
Bride
.
This
Nature
bore
—
But
when
our
Landlord
sent
His
Officers
,
to
seize
my
Lord
for
Rent
;
And
he
,
to
shun
the
Prison
,
flies
the
Shore
;
Lists
on
the
Sea
,
to
tug
the
lab'ring
Oar
;
I
wept
,
I
rav'd
,
I
curs'd
the
baleful
Air
;
And
fled
my
native
Land
,
but
not
my
Care
.
Thus
,
banish'd
here
,
a
Widow
,
and
a
Wife
,
Condemn'd
to
suffer
,
not
enjoy
a
Life
,
I
toil
for
those
,
who
catch
the
finny
Prey
;
The
Toils
are
great
,
but
very
small
the
Pay
!
Their
scaly
Fry
to
Market
oft
I
bear
,
Oft
in
the
Ocean
wash
their
thready
Snare
;
And
then
was
washing
,
when
,
with
great
Surprize
,
You
,
and
your
floating
Vessel
,
met
my
Eyes
.
NOW
Heav'n
defend
us
both
!
the
Nymph
reply'd
;
And
can
such
Rage
in
Christian
Minds
reside
?
What
,
could
the
curst
,
inhuman
Tyrant
wrest
Thy
tender
Husband
from
thy
loving
Breast
,
When
all
thy
Wealth
was
lost
,
thy
Children
dead
?
O
Virtue
!
Virtue
!
whither
art
thou
fled
?
Why
must
such
Evils
on
the
Guiltless
flow
?
Ye
Heav'ns
!
is
Innocence
rewarded
so
?
SO
spake
the
Nymph
;
her
Friend
no
more
replies
;
For
now
PRISCILLA's
Dome
attracts
their
Eyes
:
Approaching
to
her
friendly
Gate
,
they
found
The
gen'rous
Lady
dealing
Alms
around
To
needy
Souls
,
a
hapless
,
helpless
Crowd
,
Who
daily
bless'd
her
Hand
for
daily
Food
!
When
thus
CAPRESA
:
Hail
,
for
ever
bless'd
!
'Tis
Godlike
thus
to
succour
the
Distress'd
:
Yet
none
of
these
,
who
claim
your
Christian
Aid
,
Deserves
it
more
than
this
unhappy
Maid
;
Who
once
was
bless'd
with
Fame
and
Riches
too
,
Tho'
fickle
Fortune
now
is
turn'd
her
Foe
;
Unlike
the
Mendicants
,
who
daily
share
Your
friendly
Bounty
,
and
maternal
Care
.
TO
whom
the
Lady
,
with
a
gracious
Look
,
That
seem'd
to
breathe
Compassion
,
while
she
spoke
:
Sure
Decency
forbids
,
a
Guest
so
great
Should
,
undistinguish'd
,
with
the
Vulgar
eat
.
No
;
deck
my
Table
with
the
choicest
Fare
;
The
Nymph
,
with
me
,
a
kind
Repast
shall
share
;
For
,
by
her
Looks
if
Truth
may
be
divin'd
,
That
lovely
Body
cloaths
a
lovely
Mind
.
SHE
said
,
and
CONSTANCE
low
Obeisance
made
;
Then
gladly
follow'd
,
where
PRISCILLA
led
.
Within
the
Gate
a
spacious
Room
she
found
,
Whose
Walls
were
beautify'd
with
Tap'stry
round
;
Where
pious
Tales
appear'd
,
so
lively
wrought
,
The
Work
seem'd
vital
,
and
the
Figures
Thought
:
Here
,
in
the
Shade
,
the
Jewish
Patriarch
stood
,
Feasting
the
Sons
of
Heav'n
with
earthly
Food
;
While
,
there
,
the
good
Samaritan
confest
His
Kindness
,
and
reproach'd
the
cruel
Priest
;
With
many
more
,
a
charitable
Band
,
The
skilful
Labour
of
PRISCILLA's
Hand
.
HITHER
the
Dame
convey'd
a
sweet
Repast
;
Rich
Meats
,
and
rosy
Wines
the
Table
grac'd
:
They
eat
,
they
drank
,
in
pleasing
Converse
join'd
;
And
chear'd
at
once
the
Body
and
the
Mind
.
The
Call
of
Nature
being
soon
supprest
,
Thus
spake
the
Lady
to
her
youthful
Guest
:
SAY
,
lovely
Stranger
!
(
for
I
long
to
know
;
So
may
propitious
Heav'n
remove
thy
Woe
!
)
Whence
thus
reduc'd
?
By
Famine
,
Sword
,
or
Fire
?
What
Sire
thy
Beauty
boasts
,
what
Land
thy
Sire
?
Perhaps
some
Princess
,
banish'd
from
her
Home
,
Thus
condescends
to
grace
my
rustic
Dome
:
If
so
,
I
greatly
fear
,
my
homely
Feast
Has
been
unworthy
of
my
Royal
Guest
.
SHE
said
,
the
Nymph
unfolds
her
Tale
again
;
The
prudent
Dame
attempts
to
sooth
her
Pain
,
And
thus
reply'd
:
Tho'
weighty
are
your
Woes
,
The
weightiest
Ill
,
with
Patience
,
lighter
grows
:
Then
bear
with
Patience
all
that
Heav'n
design'd
,
Whose
Ways
are
just
,
tho'
difficult
to
find
,
Plann'd
for
the
gen'ral
Good
of
Human
Kind
.
God's
Paths
in
winding
Mazes
often
lie
,
Too
intricate
for
feeble
Reason's
Eye
;
Most
regular
,
when
in
Confusion
lost
;
Most
constant
,
when
they
seem
to
vary
most
.
Perhaps
his
Mercy
forc'd
you
thus
to
roam
,
To
shun
a
more
unhappy
Fate
at
home
;
For
with
one
Evil
he
removes
a
worse
,
And
blesses
oft
with
what
we
think
a
Curse
.
Then
let
your
Soul
at
Fortune
not
repine
;
But
trust
in
Heav'n's
Protection
,
next
,
in
mine
:
In
me
you
still
shall
find
a
faithful
Friend
,
With
whom
,
in
time
,
your
Troubles
all
may
end
:
But
,
since
you
now
are
harass'd
out
with
Woes
,
Refresh
your
weary
Soul
with
sweet
Repose
;
And
when
you
wake
,
at
Morning
,
may
you
find
Heav'n's
balmy
Comfort
heal
your
wounded
Mind
!
THUS
chear'd
,
the
Nymph
obsequiously
withdrew
,
And
bath'd
her
Cares
in
Sleep's
refreshing
Dew
;
Till
PHOEBUS
,
rising
from
the
Shades
of
Night
,
With
rosy
Keys
unlock'd
the
Gates
of
Light
:
Bright
as
his
Beams
,
arose
the
beauteous
Maid
;
And
,
to
her
Patroness
returning
,
said
:
WHAT
Thanks
,
propitious
Lady
!
shall
I
give
For
all
the
Godlike
Bounties
I
receive
?
O
!
let
my
Silence
thank
you
;
for
I
know
,
Words
can't
express
the
Gratitude
I
owe
.
To
whom
replies
the
venerable
Dame
:
No
other
Thanks
,
but
Gratitude
,
I
claim
:
The
Terms
of
Charity
are
never
hard
,
Love
and
Compassion
are
their
own
Reward
:
A
Soul
,
that
succours
Virtue
,
when
distrest
,
Can
with
Reflection
make
a
noble
Feast
;
Which
nourishes
the
Mind
,
and
overpays
A
gen'rous
Deed
with
self-approving
Praise
.
SUCH
was
their
Converse
,
till
domestic
Care
Invites
PRISCILLA
from
the
youthful
Fair
;
Who
sat
in
pensive
Solitude
,
and
strove
To
soften
,
or
suspend
the
Pains
of
Love
.
At
length
the
Linen
on
her
Knee
she
spread
,
And
with
her
Needle
work'd
the
docile
Thread
.
Young
THISBE's
Fate
she
first
began
to
frame
;
But
soon
commits
her
Labour
to
the
Flame
:
Next
drew
she
HERO
sinking
in
the
Main
;
Then
raz'd
the
finish'd
Image
out
again
:
Both
these
displeas'd
her
,
tho'
judicious
Art
,
And
Rays
of
Nature
shone
in
ev'ry
Part
.
At
length
her
own
unhappy
Tale
she
chose
,
And
lively
paints
the
Scene
of
all
her
Woes
:
Her
charming
FELIX
first
the
Linen
grac'd
;
By
whom
her
Father
,
frowning
stern
,
she
plac'd
:
Her
Lover's
Parting
next
to
these
appears
;
(
But
,
weeping
here
,
she
soil'd
her
Work
with
Tears
)
Next
,
on
the
Seas
,
she
drew
her
floating
Ship
;
Next
,
her
own
Boat
,
slow-wand'ring
o'er
the
Deep
:
By
these
she
fix'd
CAPRESA
on
the
Strand
,
Who
wak'd
her
first
,
and
welcom'd
her
to
Land
:
The
good
PRISCILLA
last
employ'd
her
Art
,
Whose
Aspect
spoke
the
Bounty
of
her
Heart
;
Her
friendly
Roof
,
a
Refuge
for
the
Poor
,
The
Horn
of
Plenty
,
pendent
o'er
the
Door
,
Diffusing
Blessings
still
,
and
still
increasing
more
.
All
these
confest
such
Beauty
,
Skill
,
and
Care
,
Not
HELEN
better
wove
the
Trojan
War
,
While
HECTOR
,
PARIS
,
and
their
Martial
Train
,
With
Grecian
Heroes
battled
on
the
Plain
.
HERE
let
us
leave
the
lovely
Nymph
a-while
,
To
pass
her
tedious
Hours
in
pleasing
Toil
:
Her
absent
Lover
now
my
Song
pursues
,
Whose
valiant
Deeds
require
a
nobler
Muse
.
SWIFT-PINION'D
FAME
,
which
often
babbling
flies
,
To
bear
unwelcome
Truths
,
and
oft'ner
Lyes
,
Had
spread
the
ductile
Error
far
and
wide
,
How
wand'ring
FELIX
perish'd
in
the
Tide
.
But
FELIX
safely
reach'd
the
Thunic
Port
,
And
soon
arriv'd
to
Honours
in
the
Court
:
His
Wisdom
there
the
wisest
Peers
excell'd
;
His
Valour
more
surpass'd
'em
in
the
Field
.
When
first
he
to
the
Royal
Palace
came
,
An
Accident
occurr'd
to
raise
his
Fame
:
A
noble
Lord
there
was
,
of
great
Renown
,
Rebell'd
against
the
King
,
and
claim'd
his
Crown
:
Great
Preparations
made
he
for
the
Fight
;
Nor
less
the
Monarch
,
to
defend
his
Right
;
But
summon'd
all
,
to
meet
the
daring
Foe
,
Whose
Strength
could
wield
a
Sword
,
or
bend
a
Bow
;
And
promis'd
to
reward
their
Martial
Care
,
With
Honours
equal
to
their
Deeds
in
War
.
Now
rings
the
Region
with
the
Foe's
Alarms
,
Terrific
shines
the
Field
with
burnish'd
Arms
;
The
Martial
Trumpet
,
sounding
from
afar
,
With
dreadful
Notes
,
proclaims
approaching
War
.
The
Royal
Army
valiant
FELIX
join'd
;
Intrepid
Courage
animates
his
Mind
:
Fix'd
in
the
Front
,
the
Foe
he
bravely
dares
,
Like
PALLAS
prudent
,
and
as
bold
as
MARS
.
Say
,
Muse
,
What
Goddess
,
that
tremendous
Hour
,
Aided
the
Youth
with
such
unusual
Pow'r
?
Bright
VENUS
,
conscious
of
the
Lover's
Smart
,
Sharpen'd
his
Sword
,
and
pointed
ev'ry
Dart
:
Fierce
,
as
a
Lion
,
thro'
the
Lines
he
sprung
;
And
forc'd
his
Foes
,
like
trembling
Stags
,
along
.
As
when
resistless
Winds
rush
o'er
the
Deep
,
And
from
its
Anchor
force
the
driving
Ship
,
Or
furiously
against
the
Woodland
roar
;
The
leafy
Harvest
,
tumbling
,
flies
before
:
So
rush'd
the
Hero
on
the
adverse
Band
,
So
fled
the
Legions
from
his
pow'rful
Hand
;
Till
soon
the
rebel
Lord
he
Pris'ner
made
,
And
to
the
King
his
captive
Prize
convey'd
Now
reaps
the
Youth
the
Glory
of
his
Toil
;
To
him
the
Monarch
gives
the
Martial
Spoil
,
Rewards
his
Valour
with
a
noble
Post
,
And
makes
him
First
Commander
of
his
Host
.
Thus
,
quickly
FELIX
gain'd
a
deathless
Name
;
Thus
,
was
his
Labour
crown'd
with
Wealth
and
Fame
:
But
Wealth
and
Fame
insipid
Things
appear
;
To
give
them
Taste
,
he
wants
the
lovely
Fair
;
The
lovely
Fair
,
opprest
with
equal
Grief
,
To
make
her
happy
,
wants
the
glorious
Chief
.
HIS
Fame
,
which
soon
at
Susa
was
reveal'd
,
(
Heroic
Actions
seldom
lie
conceal'd
)
With
pleasing
Wonder
struck
CONSTANTIA's
Ears
,
And
fill'd
her
doubtful
Soul
with
Hopes
and
Fears
:
For
,
tho'
the
wise
PRISCILLA
often
strove
With
prudent
Counsel
to
suppress
her
Love
;
Her
Love
was
only
lessen'd
,
not
supprest
;
But
glows
again
,
again
distracts
her
Breast
.
AS
when
,
in
rural
Cots
,
the
Flames
aspire
,
And
lab'ring
Peasants
quench
the
mounting
Fire
:
If
chance
a
latent
Spark
remain
behind
,
In
heapy
Ashes
,
fann'd
with
ambient
Wind
;
The
Fires
again
,
with
former
Fury
,
rise
,
Flame
thro'
the
Roof
,
and
flash
into
the
Skies
:
So
in
her
Bosom
glows
the
am'rous
Fire
,
And
fills
her
tender
Soul
with
soft
Desire
.
And
is
my
FELIX
yet
alive
?
she
says
;
And
is
he
crown'd
with
Wealth
,
and
deathless
Praise
?
No
,
no
;
I
fear
the
flatt'ring
Tale
deceives
;
Methinks
I
see
him
plunging
in
the
Waves
.
Ah
!
why
,
ye
Heav'ns
,
are
feeble
Mortals
curst
,
In
Things
uncertain
,
to
believe
the
worst
?
No
;
rather
let
me
seek
the
Thunic
Court
;
There
,
with
my
Eyes
,
confirm
the
blest
Report
:
Hope
flies
before
,
and
points
the
pleasing
Way
;
Love
urges
on
,
and
Love
I
must
obey
.
SO
saying
,
to
PRISCILLA
straight
she
came
,
And
with
her
Thoughts
acquaints
the
pious
Dame
;
The
pious
Dame
,
with
tender
Pity
sway'd
,
Approves
the
Passion
of
the
loving
Maid
;
And
,
with
CAPRESA
,
guards
her
to
the
Place
,
Resolv'd
herself
to
view
the
Hero's
Face
.
The
Hero
meets
'em
at
the
Regal
Gate
,
Array'd
in
Armour
,
formidably
great
;
For
on
that
Morning
,
by
the
King's
Command
,
The
Chief
was
to
review
the
Martial
Band
:
His
studded
Chariot
darted
Splendor
round
,
His
stately
Coursers
,
neighing
,
paw'd
the
Ground
;
The
nodding
Plumes
around
his
Temples
wave
,
With
awful
Grace
,
and
beautifully
brave
.
He
knew
th'approaching
Nymph
;
but
,
in
Surprize
,
The
joyous
Stream
descended
from
his
Eyes
:
The
Nymph
beheld
the
weeping
Chief
;
nor
knew
,
For
what
he
wept
,
nor
whom
she
came
to
view
:
His
Martial
Dress
,
bespangled
o'er
with
Gold
,
The
dreadful
Warrior
,
not
the
Lover
,
told
:
But
,
when
he
cast
the
Helmet
from
his
Head
,
And
thro'
the
Gates
the
blushing
Damsel
led
;
She
knew
her
Lover
,
clasp'd
him
to
her
Breast
,
While
silent
Eloquence
her
Joy
confest
:
The
conscious
Pains
an
absent
Lover
bears
,
Despair
,
fallacious
Hope
,
and
anxious
Fears
,
For
want
of
Words
,
were
painted
with
their
Tears
.
And
when
,
at
length
,
their
crystal
Sluices
ceas'd
,
The
joyful
Hero
thus
the
Nymph
address'd
:
YE
Gods
!
and
have
I
then
my
Charmer
found
?
And
are
my
Labours
thus
completely
crown'd
!
Yes
!
let
me
clasp
thee
to
my
longing
Arms
,
Drink
in
thy
Breath
,
and
feed
upon
thy
Charms
.
As
widow'd
Turtles
,
roving
round
the
Fields
,
Thro'
all
the
fruitful
Stores
,
which
Nature
yields
,
Curst
in
the
midst
of
Plenty
,
cannot
eat
;
But
starve
,
lamenting
for
their
absent
Mate
:
Thus
have
I
been
with
Fame
and
Riches
grac'd
;
Yet
wanted
thee
,
to
give
my
Riches
Taste
.
But
say
,
how
came
this
Wealth
I
wanted
most
?
What
brought
my
Love
to
this
Barbarian
Coast
?
HE
said
;
and
now
the
joyful
Damsel
spake
The
Dangers
which
she
suffer'd
for
his
sake
;
Shews
him
the
Dame
,
who
found
her
on
the
Tide
;
PRISCILLA
too
,
who
all
her
Wants
supply'd
:
Then
,
prostrate
,
on
her
Knees
before
him
bends
,
And
begs
him
to
reward
her
faithful
Friends
.
The
grateful
Chief
,
by
native
Goodness
sway'd
,
Embrac'd
'em
both
,
and
soon
the
Nymph
obey'd
;
But
first
before
his
Royal
Master
came
,
And
begs
he
may
resign
his
Post
of
Fame
:
At
which
the
Monarch
frowns
with
awful
Eyes
,
Till
FELIX
straight
,
who
saw
his
Passion
rise
,
Falls
on
the
Ground
,
and
to
his
Master
shows
The
various
Scene
of
all
his
am'rous
Woes
.
This
heard
,
the
King
resumes
his
former
Grace
;
Love
tun'd
his
Soul
,
and
smooth'd
his
ruffled
Face
:
He
rais'd
the
Hero
,
bids
the
Nymph
appear
;
The
Nymph
approach'd
him
with
a
modest
Fear
;
Before
his
awful
Throne
,
submiss
,
she
fell
,
And
to
him
straight
unfolds
th'amazing
Tale
.
Mute
,
on
the
Ground
a-while
he
fix'd
his
Eyes
;
Then
,
Is
the
Force
of
Love
so
great
?
he
cries
:
We
falsely
Man
the
World's
Commander
call
;
Thou
,
mightier
Monarch
,
Love
!
commandest
All
:
Young
AMMON's
Self
could
not
thy
Pow'r
confine
;
The
World
his
Subject
was
,
but
He
was
thine
.
THEN
,
smiling
,
thus
he
chear'd
the
trembling
Fair
:
Henceforward
,
lovely
Nymph
,
dismiss
thy
Care
;
For
,
since
thy
Love
has
conquer'd
Wind
and
Sea
,
Curst
be
the
King
,
that's
crueller
than
they
!
Let
HYMEN
straight
confirm
the
Marriage
Ties
;
Thou
justly
hast
deserv'd
the
Nuptial
Prize
.
THUS
said
,
he
crown'd
the
Hero's
Martial
Care
,
With
Riches
far
superior
to
the
Fair
:
Due
Thanks
return'd
,
they
to
PRISCILLA
came
,
Bestowing
Gifts
and
Honours
on
the
Dame
:
CAPRESA
next
,
with
Age
and
Labour
worn
,
In
comely
Robes
the
grateful
Pair
adorn
;
With
ample
Wealth
her
former
Bliss
restor'd
,
And
from
the
Seas
redeem'd
her
Nuptial
Lord
;
Her
Nuptial
Lord
again
enjoys
his
Wife
,
Again
delightful
Freedom
crowns
his
Life
;
Till
Nature
calls
him
to
resign
his
Breath
,
In
honourable
Age
,
and
peaceful
Death
.
THIS
done
,
the
loving
Couple
quit
the
Shore
,
And
joyfully
the
destin'd
Port
explore
;
While
sportive
NEREIDS
round
their
Vessel
play
,
And
wanton
CUPIDS
hail
'em
on
their
Way
;
Rough
THETIS'
Self
assumes
a
pleasing
Smile
,
Glad
to
return
'em
to
their
native
Soil
;
Where
sacred
HYMEN
join'd
their
mutual
Hands
,
And
Heav'n
,
indulgent
,
bless'd
their
Nuptial
Bands
.