LOVE ALARMED. NURSED in the lap of languid ease With vigour rouse thy torpid soul, When round the Thracian God her arms Then Love protects his mother's bower, Then with new force his shafts fly round, At length when, satiate with the joy, Spreads his light wings and flies in fear. TO LYDIA. AWAY! these arts no more shall hold me, And once more hop'st thou to detain me Ah no! Deceit no more shall chain me, Believ'st thou I will wear a fetter Fair Mischief! learn to know me better, Yet once again could I believe thee, Yet now, when thus compelled to leave thee Not in our parting would I grieve thee, And if those tears are true, my anguish |