Classic Poem

SCENE VI.

DIONE. LAURA.

DIONE.

Methinks I'm now surrounded by despair,
And all my with'ring hopes are lost in air.
Thus the young linnet on the rocking bough
Hears through long woods autumnal tempests blow,
With hollow blasts the clashing branches bend,
And yellow show'rs of rustling leaves descend;
She sees the friendly shelter from her fly,
Nor dare her little pinions trust the sky;
But on the naked spray in wintry air,
All shiv'ring, hopeless, mourns the dying year.
What have I promis'd? rash, unthinking maid!
By thy own tongue thy wishes are betray'd!

LAURA.

Why walk'st thou thus disturb'd with frantick air?
Why roll thy eyes with madness and despair?

DIONE.

How wilt thou bear to see her pride give way?
When thus the yielding nymph shall bid thee say,
" Let not the shepherd seek the silent grave,
" Say, that I bid him live. — if hope can save.

LAURA.

Hath he discern'd thee through the swain's disguise,
And now alike thy love and friendship flys?

DIONE.

Yes. Firm and faithful to the promise made,
I'll range each sunny hill, each lawn and glade.

LAURA.

'Tis Laura speaks. O calm your troubled mind.

DIONE.

Where shall my search this envy'd Beauty find?
I'll go, my faithless shepherd's cause to plead,
And with my tears accuse the rival maid.
Yet, should her soften'd heart to love incline!

LAURA.

If those are all thy fears; Evander 's thine.

DIONE.

Why should we both in sorrow waste our days?
If love unfeign'd my constant bosom sways,
His happiness alone is all I prize,
And that is center'd in Parthenia 's eyes.
Haste then, with earnest zeal her love implore,
To bless his hours; — when thou shalt breathe no more.