Classic Poem

In a fair Island, in the Southern Main,
Blest with indulgent Skies and kindly Rain,
A Princess liv'd, of Origin divine,
Of Bloom celestial, and Imperial Line.

In that sweet Season, when the mounting Sun
Prepares with Joy his radiant Course to run;
Led by the Graces, and the dancing Hours,
And wakes to Life the various Race of Flowers;
The lovely Queen forsook her shining Court,
For rural Scenes, and healthful sylvan Sport.

It so befel, that as, in chearful Talk,
Her Nymphs and she pursu'd their Evening Walk;
On the green Margin of the oozy Deep,
They found a graceful Youth dissolv'd in Sleep,
Whose Charms the Queen survey'd with fond Delight,
And hung enamour'd o'er the pleasing Sight:
By her Command, the Youth was straight convey'd,
And, sleeping, softly in her Palace laid.

Now ruddy Morning purpled o'er the skies,
And beamy Light unseal'd the Stranger's Eyes,
Who cry'd aloud, Ye Gods, unfold this Scene!
Where am I! What can all these Wonders mean?'

Scarce had he spoke, when with officious Care,
Attendant Nymphs a fragrant Bath prepare;
He rose, he bath'd, and on his lovely Head
Ambrosial Sweets, and precious Oil they shed:
To deck his polish'd Limbs a Robe they brought,
In all the various Dyes of Beauty wrought.
Then led him to the Queen, who on a Throne
Of burnish'd Gold and beamy Diamonds shone:
But oh! what Wonder seiz'd her beauteous Guest!
What Love, what Ecstasy, his Soul possest!
Entranc'd he stood, and on his falt'ring Tongue
Imperfect Words and half-form'd Accents hung:
Nor less the Queen the blooming Youth admir'd,
Nor less Delight and Love her Soul inspir'd.

O Stranger! said the Queen, if hither driven
By adverse Winds, or sent a Guest from Heav'n,
To me the Wretched never sue in vain,
This fruitful Isle acknowledges my Reign;
Then speak thy Wishes, and thy Wants declare,
And no Denial shall attend your Pray'r;
She paus'd and blush'd — the Youth his Silence broke,
And, kneeling, thus the charming Queen bespoke:

O Goddess! for a Form so bright as thine,
Speaks thee descended of celestial Line;
Low at your Feet a prostrate King behold,
Whose faithless Subjects sold his Life for Gold;
I fly a cruel Tyrant's lawless Hand,
And Shipwreck drove my Vessel on your Strand.
But why do I complain of Fortune's Frowns?
Or what are Titles, Honours, Scepters, Crowns,
To this sweet Moment? While in fond Amaze
On such transporting Excellence I gaze!
Such Symmetry of Shape! so fair a Face!
Such finish'd Excellence, such perfect Grace!
Hear then my only Wish, and oh! approve
The ardent Prayer which supplicates thy Love.

From Neptune know, O Prince, my Birth I claim,
Replies the Queen, and Lucida's my Name;
This Island, these attendant Nymphs he gave,
The fair-hair'd Daughters of the azure Wave!
But he whose Fortune gains me for a Bride
Must have his Constancy severely try'd.
One day each Moon am I compell'd to go
To my great Father's wat'ry Realms below,
Where coral Groves coelestial red display,
And blazing Di'monds emulate the Day;
In this short Absence if your Love endures,
My Heart and Empire are for ever yours;
And hoary Neptune , to reward your Truth,
Shall crown you with immortal Bloom and Youth;
But instant Death will on your Falshood wait,
Nor can my Tenderness prevent your Fate;
Twice twenty Times in Wedlock's sacred Band,
My royal Father join'd my plighted Hand;
Twice twenty noble Youths, alas! are dead,
Who in my Absence stain'd the Nuptial Bed;
Your Virtues, Prince, may claim a nobler Throne,
But mine is yielded on these Terms alone.

Delightful Terms! reply'd the raptur'd Youth,
Accept my Constancy, my endless Truth.
Perfidious faithless Men!' enrag'd, he cry'd,
They merited the Fate by which they dy'd;
Accept a Heart incapable of Change,
Thy Beauty shall forbid Desire to range;
No other Form shall to my Eye seem fair,
No other Voice attract my list'ning Ear,
No Charms but thine shall e'er my Soul approve,
So aid thy Vot'ry, potent God of Love!'

Now loud Applauses thro' the Palace ring,
The duteous Subjects hail their god-like King:
To feastful Mirth they dedicate the Day,
chant the nuptial Lay. While tuneful Voices
Love-ditty'd Airs, hymn'd by the vocal Quire,
Sweetly attemper'd to the warbling Lyre;
But when the Sun descending sought the Main,
And low-brow'd Night assumed her silent Reign;
They to the Marriage-bed convey'd the Bride,
And laid the raptur'd Bridegroom by her Side

Now rose the Sun, and with auspicious Ray,
Dispell'd the dewy Mists, and gave the Day;
When Lucida , with anxious Care oppress'd,
Thus wak'd her sleeping Lord from downy Rest:

Soul of my Soul, and Monarch of my Heart,
This Day', she cry'd, this fatal Day, we part;
Yet if your Love uninjur'd you retain,
We soon shall meet in Happiness again,
To part no more; but rolling Years employ
In circling Bliss, and never-fading Joy:
Alas! my boding Soul is lost in Woe,
And from my Eyes the Tears unbidden flow.