Sidor som bilder

So may thy youthful fon old age attain,
And thy dead father's bones in peace
As thou haft pity on unhappy me,

Who knew no crime, but too much love of


remain :

I am not born from fierce Achilles' line,
Nor did my parents against Troy combine.
To be thy wife if I unworthy prove,
By fome inferior name admit my love.
To be fecur'd of ftill poffeffing thee,
What would I do, and what would I not be !
Our Libyan coafts their certain seasons know,
When free from tempefts paffengers may go:
But now with northern blafts the billows roar,
And drive the floating fea-weed to the shore.
Leave to my care the time to fail away;
When fafe, I will not fuffer thee to stay.
Thy weary men would be with ease content;
Their fails are tatter'd, and their masts are spent.
If by no merit I thy mind can move,
What thou deny'ft my merit, give my
Stay, 'till I learn my lofs to undergo;
And give me time to ftruggle with my woe.
If not, know this, I will not fuffer long;


My life's too loathfome, and my love too strong.

Death holds my pen and dictates what I fay,
While cross my lap the Trojan sword I lay.
My tears flow down; the sharp edge cuts their


And drinks my forrows that must drink my blood.
How well thy gift does with my fate agree!
My fun'ral pomp is cheaply made by thee.
To no new wounds my bofom I display :
The sword but enters where love made the
But thou, dear fifter, and yet dearer friend,
Shalt my cold afhes to their urn attend.
Sichæus' wife let not the marble boast,
I lost that title, when my fame I lost.
This fhort infcription only let it bear:
Unhappy Dido lies in quiet here.


"The cause of death, and fword by which shedy'd, "Æneas gave: the reft her arm supply'd."

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