The FALL of LUCIA. Mary Leapor 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. T127827 p. 413 K101776.000 Leapor, Mrs. (Mary), 1722-1746. Poems upon several occasions: By Mrs. Leapor of Brackley in Northamptonshire. London printed: and sold by J. Roberts 1748 pp. 48-50. 15,[5],282p. ; 8⁰.

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The FALL of LUCIA . LUCIA was fair and bright as rising Day , Sweet as Arabia , or the Buds of May ; Fresh as the Winds that sweep the dewy Hills , Or Beds of Roses wash'd by healthy Rills : Whose Soul was softer than a trembling Dove , Nor knew a Failing till she learn'd to love . Nor Fraud nor Scandal to her Lips were known , And thought each Bosom guiltless as her own . Thus only arm'd with Innocence and Smiles , She fell the Victim of a Tyrant's Wiles . So lost from Shepherd and its mourning Dam , Through some lone Desart roves a stragg'ling Lamb ; No Danger fears , but as he idly strays Round ev'ry Bush the heedless Wanton plays ; Till raging Wolves the beauteous Toy surround , Or foaming Tigers rend the mossy Ground : Then from his Heart the guiltless Purple flows , A grateful Morsel to his hungry Foes : Thus wrap'd in Sorrows wretched Lucia lies , Whose Sighs still answer to her streaming Eyes . And Damon still — Ah ! faithless Damon cries , No more those Lips like dewy Roses glow ; Her weary Lids no peaceful Slumbers know : But left to strike her pensive Breast in vain , And curse the Author of her lasting Pain . Her Soul of Ease has took its long Adieu : Hear this , ye Nymphs ; but hear and tremble too , Ye Fair that lanch in Pleasure's tempting Sea , Though Fortune crowns you with a calmer Day , And Joy's soft Gale salutes your nimble Oar : Where Lucia's Fame was shipwreck'd on the Shore , Yet let Reflexion mark your gliding Days , Nor drink too deeply in the Draught of Praise : For Flatt'ry is — " So say the learned Schools , " The Bane of Virgins and the Bait of Fools . " How happy she whose purer Spirit knows , No Thought less harmless than a Saint's Repose , Whose guiltless Charms pursue no greater End , But to rejoice a Parent or a Friend : Whose Care it is her Passions to control , And keep the Steerage of a quiet Soul : Then this shall grace her monumental Page , " In Youth admir'd , and belov'd in Age . "