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Poor Wretch, on stormy Seas to lose thy Life,
Unhappy thou, but more thy widow'd Wife!
At this lhe paus’d; for now the flowing Tide
Had brought the Body nearer to the side:
The more she looks, the more her Fears increase,
At nearer Sight; and she's her felf the less:
Now driv'n alhore, and at her Feet it lies,
She knows too much, in knowing whom she fees :
Her Husband's Corps ; at this she loudly shrieks,
'Tis he, 'tis he, she cries, and tears her Cheeks,
Her Hair, her Vest, and stooping to the Sands
About his Neck she cast her trembling Hands.
And is it thus, O dearer than my Life,
Thus, thus return'st Thou to thy longing Wife!
She said, and to the neighb’ring Mole she strode,
(Rais'd there to break th'Incursions of the Flood ;)
Headlong from hence to plunge her self the
But shoots along fupported on her Wings, [fprings,
A Bird new-made about the Banks she plies,
Not far from Shore; and short Excursions tries;
Nor seeks in Air her humble Flight to raise,
Content to skim'the Surface of the Seas:
Her Bill, tho’slender, sends a creaking Noise,
And imitates a lamentable Voice:
Now lighting where the bloodless Body lies,
She with a Fun'ral Note renews her Cries.
At all her stretch her little Wings she spread,
And with her feather'd Arms embrac'd the Dead:
Then flick’ring to his palid Lips, the strove
To print a Kiss, the last Essay of Love:
Whether the vital Touch reviv'd the Dead,
Or that the moving Waters rais'd his Head
To meet the Kiss, the Vulgar doubt alone;
For sure a present Miracle was shown.
The Gods their Shapes to Winter-Birds translate,
But both obnoxious to their former Fate.
Their conjugal Affection still is ty’d,
And still the mournful Race is multiply'd :
They bill, they tread; Alcyone compress’d
Sev’n Days sits brooding on her floating Neft:
A wintry Queen: Her Sire at length is kind,
Calms ev'ry Storm; and hushes ev'ry Wind;
Prepares his Empire for his Daughter's Ease,
And for his hatching Nephews smooths the Seas.
OW turning from the wintry Signs,
the Sun His Course exalted through the Ram
And whirling up the Skies, his Chariot drove
Thro’Taurus, and the lightsome Realms of Love;
Where Venus from her Orb descends in Show'rs
To glad the Ground, and paint the Fields with
When first the tender Blades of Grass appear,
Till gentle Heat, and soft repeated Rains,
Make the green Blood to dance within their Veins:
Then, at their Call, embolden'd out they come,
And swell the Gems, and burst the narrow Room ;
Broader and broader yet, their Blooms display,
Salute the welcome Sun, and entertain the Day.
Then from their breathing Souls the Sweets repair
Toscent the Skies, and purge th’unwholsome Air:
Joy spreads the Heart, and with a general Song,
Spring issues out, and leads the jolly Months along.
In that fweet Seafon, as in Bed I lay,
And sought in Sleep to pass the Night away,
I turn'd my weary Side, but still in vain,
Tho' full of youthful Health, and void of Pain:
Cares I had none, to keep me from my Rest,
For Love had never enterd in my Breast;
I wanted nothing Fortune could supply,
Nor did she Slumber till that Hour deny:
I wonder'd then, but after found it true,
Much Joy had dry'd away the balmy Dew:
Seas wou'd be Pools, without the brushing Air,
To curl the Waves; and sure some little Care
Shou'd weary Nature fo,to make her wantRepair.
When Chanticleer the second Watch had sung, Scorning the Scorner Sleep from Bed I sprung. And dressing, by the Moon, in loose Array, Pass'd out in open Air, preventing Day, And sought a goodly Grove, as Fancy led my way. Strait as a Line in beauteous Order stood Of Oaks unshorn a venerable Wood; Fresh was the Grass beneath, and ev'ry Tree At distance planted in a due degree, Their branching Arms in Air with equal space Stretch'd to their Neighbours with a longEmbrace: And the new Leaves on ev'ry Bough were seen, Some ruddy-colour’d; some of lighter green. The painted Birds; Companions of the Spring, Hopping from Spray to Spray, were heard to fing; Both Eyes and Ears receiv'd a like Delight, Enchanting Musick, and a charming Sight. On Philomel I fix'd my whole Desire; And listen’d for the Queen of all the Quire ; Fain would I hear her heav'nly Voice to fing; And wanted yet an Omen to the Spring
Attending long in vain; I took the Way, Which through a Path, but scarcely printed, lay.