Classic Poem

SCENE III.

LYCIDAS. DIONE. LAURA.

LAURA.

— — — Fly, fly this place;
Beware of love; the proudest of her race
This way approaches: from among the pines,
Where from the steep the winding path declines,
I saw the nymph descend.

LYCIDAS.

— — — She comes, she comes;
From her the passing Zephyrs steal perfumes,
As from the vi'let's bank; with odours sweet
Breaths ev'ry gale; spring blooms beneath her feet.
Yes, 'tis my fairest; here she 's wont to rove.

LAURA.

Say, by what signs I might have known thy Love?

LYCIDAS.

My Love is fairer than the snowy breast
Of the tall swan, whose proudly-swelling chest
Divides the wave; her tresses loose behind,
Play on her neck, and wanton in the wind;
The rising blushes, which her cheek o'erspread,
Are op'ning roses in the lilly's bed.
Know'st thou Parthenia?

LAURA.

— — — Wretched is the slave
Who serves such pride! behold Menalcas ' grave!
Yet if Alexis and this sighing swain
Wish to behold the Tyrant of the plain,
Let us behind these myrtle's twining arms
Retire unseen; from thence survey her charms.
Wild as the chaunting thrush upon the spray,
At man's approach she swiftly flies away.
Like the young hare, I've seen the panting maid
Stop, listen, run; of ev'ry wind afraid.

LYCIDAS.

And wilt thou never from thy vows depart?
Shepherd, beware — — now fortifie thy heart.