While yet superior Love shall mock his power: And when old Time shall turn the fated hour, Which only can our well-tied knot unfold; What rests of both, one sepulchre shall hold. Hence then for ever from my Emma's breast (That heaven of softness, and that seat of rest). Ye doubts and fears, and all that know to move Tormenting grief, and all that trouble love, Scatter'd by winds recede, and wild in forest rove EMMA. O day the fairest sure that ever rose! And is there yet no mistress in the wood? Doubt shall for ever quit my strengthen'd heart Nor other inmate shall inhabit there, But soft Belief, young Joy, and pleasing Care : Hence let the tides of plenty ebb and flow, And Fortune's various gale unheeded blow. If at my feet the suppliant goddess stands, And sheds her treasure with unweary'd hands; Her present favour cautious I'll embrace, And not unthankful use the proffer'd grace : If she reclaims the temporary boon, And tries her pinions, fluttering to be gone; Secure of mind, I'll obviate her intent, And unconcern'd return the goods she lent. Nor happiness can I, nor misery feel, From any turn of her fantastic wheel : Friendship's great Laws, and Love's superior powers, Must mark the colour of my future hours. From the events which thy commands create I must my blessings or my sorrows date; And Henry's will must dictate Emma's fate. Yet while with close delight and inward pride Which from the world my careful soul shall hide} I see thee, lord and end of my desire, Exalted high as virtue can require; With power invested, and with pleasure chear'd; Sought by the good, by the oppressor fear'd; Loaded and blest with all the affluent store, Which human vows at smoaking shrines implore; Grateful and humble grant me to employ My life subservient only to thy joy; And at my death to bless thy kindness shown To her, who of mankind could love but thee alone. Joyful above them and around them play'd To chuse propitious shafts, a precious store All tipt with pleasure, and all wing'd with joy : The Queen of Beauty stopt her bridled doves; Approv'd the little labour of the Loves ; Was proud and pleas'd the mutual vow to hear; And to the triumph call'd the God of War: Soon as she calls, the God is always near. Now, Mars, she said, let Fame exalt her volee: Nor let thy conquests only be her choice: But when she sings great Edward from the field The years design'd to perfect Britain's state, 2 The British soldier from his high command Faithful may'st thou, like British Henry, prove: And, Emma-like, let me return thy love. Renown'd for truth, let all thy sons appear; And constant Beauty shall reward their care. Mars smil'd, and bow'd: the Cyprian Deity Turn'd to the glorious ruler of the sky; And thou, she smiling said, great God of days Be set aside; and, in the softest lays To the true Lover, and the Nut-brown Maid. FINIS. |