Classic Poem

PROLOGUE

Cloris.

Beneath the Covert of a lonely Shade,
A Place for Tears and Lamentation made,
The mournful Cloris lay and wept alone,
Helpless, she wept to all, but Heaven, unknown.
Fair Sylvia past that Way, and heard her Cries,
Her melting Grones, and her repeated Sighs.
With soft Compassion mov'd, straight she drew near
To view the mournful Nymph that languisht here.
Surpriz'd she stood to see her Darling Mate,
The lovely C LORIS thus disconsolate:
Then with sweet Smiles she lean'd upon her Breast,
And thus essay'd to charm her Soul to Rest.

Sylvia.

Why thus in Tears, why thus dissolv'd with Grief,
Estrang'd from all that can afford Relief?
Why wander'd from the Plain these many Days,
Your Temples thus o'erspread with fading Bays;
While all the Virgin-Nymphs with joyful Throngs,
By yonder Streams accent their rural Songs?
Their tender Flocks with bleating Notes combine,
And pleasant Birds in softer Warbles joyn:
Thus harmoniz'd, without Envy or Strife,
They sweetly think away the Cares of Life.
How can you then, hid in this silent Grove,
Still shun their chaste Embraces and their Love?
Tell me, my dearest C LORIS , let me know
What direful Shock of Fate has made thee so?

Cloris.

L UCINDA'S dead: Ah! I can add no more,
The killing Wound renews, augments my Sore.

Sylvia.

L UCINDA dead! alas, what do I hear!
What Fatal Voice is this that strikes my Ear?
L UCINDA , lovely Nymph, yet cruel too,
Since you allow'd me not to die with you!
Hadst thou been kind, and told me of thy Fate,
Our Souls should not have been long separate.
With close Embrace we should have so entwin'd,
As to appear but one compounded Mind:
That envious Death should not the Diff'rence know,
But have transfix'd us both at the same Blow.
Weep on, dear C LORIS , mourn, and, mourning, tell
The Beauties of that Nymph we lov'd so well.

Cloris.

The Theme's too high, my feeble Strings in vain
Attempt so lofty, so advanc'd a Strain:
Without, within, such heavenly Lustres shine,
As prov'd her whole Composure all Divine.
Those comely Looks, soft Smiles, that charming Grace,
And Virgin-blush which sparkled in her Face;
That mild Address, chast Mien, and modest Air,
Each wandering Sweetness scatt'red here and there,
Thro' her fair Mould, in all their Bloom and Art,
Were but faint Emblems of that nobler Part
Which lodg'd within, whose Beauties were unknown,
Conceal'd from all, seen by the Gods alone.

Sylvia.

O yes, her Soul shone with a brighter Flame
Than all the Charms of her external Frame:
U RANIA'S Darling, she whose purest Fires
Enkindled in her Breast refin'd Desires:
For by the Goddess led to silent Groves,
She felt Elysian Joys, Celestial Loves:
Those made her long for that exalted Height,
Which is beyond the Reach of Mortal Sight.
Hence she began to fly the noisy Plain,
And all its poor Delights, as too profane.
These rural Songs, soft Notes, and youthful Joy,
Wherewith her fellow Nymphs their Pipes employ,
No longer had their wonted Relish here,
U RANIA'S Name still charming in her Ear.
And hence her Soul was stampt with Charms Divine,
Whose Splendours, now unvail'd, no more decline,
But make the lovely Nymph thro' all Elysium shine.

Cloris.

Yes, now she lives in those blest Seats of Light,
Far rais'd above these gloomy Shades of Night:
A bright Attendant of U RANIA'S Train,
Advanc'd above all Griefs, all Tears, and Pain.

Sylvia.

But ah! Dear C LORIS , sing how cruel Death
At first began to stop her rosy Breath:
Why Time advanc'd with such a wingy Speed,
To tell th' unwelcome News, L UCINDA'S dead!

Cloris.

Down by the Banks of an impetuous Flood,
Whose rising Waves insult the neighb'ring Wood,
The lovely Shepherdess travers'd the Rocks,
In Quest of her stray'd Lambs and wand'ring Flocks.
But as she try'd to wrestle up again,
The steep Ascent her tender Ancles strain.
From this slight Wound, Life did a-pace decay,
And the spent Tide by little ebb'd away.
All Means were try'd to stop th' invading Sore,
But Heav'n decreed that nothing should restore.

Sylvia.

What do I hear? ah! how could Heaven allow
Invidious Death so soon to give the Blow?
How could the Gods pass this severest Doom,
To crush the bloss'ming Flower just in its vernal Bloom?

Cloris.

Ah! Sylvia , don't you know, the Powers above
Saw she was fit for that bright State of Love?
The beauteous Deities were not so severe,
But she had finish'd her great Errand here.
You've heard, dear Sylvia , that this mortal State
Is wisely chosen and ordain'd by Fate,
That we, therein by purest Virtues, may,
Prepare our Souls for those blest Seats of Day.
Yes, we're confin'd to these dark Shades of Woe,
That finding no true Bliss, nor Joys below,
U RANIA'S Beauties may invest our Heart,
Triumph o'er all its Powers in every Part:
And when thus disciplin'd in Love Divine,
'Midst yonder sparkling Lights we're made to shine.
In this L UCINDA all the Plain surpast,
Dispatch'd the great Design of Life so fast,
That the fair Nymph had scarce to live begun,
When the great Bus'ness of her Life was done.
The Gods, who could not now prolong her Stay,
Uncag'd her Soul from this wretch'd Ball of Clay;
Then, fluttering, she broke loose and wing'd away.

Sylvia.

Mid'st all the Starry Gems which gild the Night,
Methinks I now behold a sparkling Light.
Whose Virgin-Bloom and modest Blush declare,
That chaste L UCINDA is transplanted there.

Cloris.

Yes, in yon Constellation bright, tho' small,
Which Mortals by the Name of Virgo call,
You see that new Addition to its Train;
'Tis there our Darling Fellow-Mate doth reign.
L UCINDA , ah L UCINDA , we don't grieve
That thou art dead, but that we can survive
When thou art gone, that we should stay behind,
And not be stript with thee to naked Mind.