Classic Poem

'Twas when prevailing Night had spread
Her sable Mantle o'er the Earth;
The Tulip clos'd his painted Head,
Waiting next Morn a gayer Birth;
No other Noise was heard while Strephon sung;
These were the Words with which his Accents rung.

While, in Clarinda 's Arms enclos'd,
Like more than Mortal Damon lies;
While, on her snowy Breasts repos'd,
In softly melting Raptures dies;
Ye Nymphs and Nereids hear a Youth complain,
Who long Clarinda lov'd, but lov'd in vain!

Kindly at first she seem'd to bend;
And long return'd me Sigh for Sigh;
Chose out the Day my Pains to end;
And the too sloathful Day drew nigh;
I to my Wishes gave their utmost Flight — —
Sure to enjoy them all the following Night.
Damon appear'd a Week before,
And with rich Presents sooth'd her Pride;
Told her how much he had in Store;
She play'd the Woman and comply'd:
Then curst be all the Sex — — tho' my fond Heart
Could wish Clarinda of the Sex no Part.

Beneath a gloomy Willow Shade,
Hard by a murm'ring River's Side,
Thus his Complaint young Strephon made,
'Till with Excess of Grief he dy'd — —
'Till all along the Banks, and thro' the Glade,
Eccho his last, his parting Sigh convey'd.