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My fault'ring tongue attempts in vain
In soothing numbers to complain;
My tongue some secret magic ties,
My murmurs sink in broken sighs.

Condemn’d to nurse eternal care,
And ever drop the silent tear,
Unheard I mourn, unknown I sigh,
Unfriended live, unpitied die.

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Ah! the shepherd's mournful fate !

When doom'd to love, and doom' to languish, To bear the scornful fair one's hate,

Nor dare disclose his anguish.
Yet eager looks, and dying sighs,
*My secret soul discover,
While rapture trembling thro’ my eyes

Reveals how much I love her.
The tender glance, the redd’ning cheek, .

O'erspread with rising blushes,
A thousand various ways they speak

A thousand various wishes.

For oh! that form so heavenly fair,

Those languid eyes so sweetly smiling,
That artless blush, and modest air,

So artfully beguiling!
Thy every look, and every grace

So charms whene'er I view thee,
Till death o’ertake me in the chase

Still will my hopes pursue thee :
Then when my tedious hours are past,

Be this last blessing given,
Low at thy feet to breathe my last,

And die in sight of heaven.

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Go, tell Amynta, gentle swain,
I would not die, nor dare complain ;
Thy tuneful voice with numbers join,
Thy voice will more prevail than mine :::
For souls oppress'd, and dumb with grief,
The Gods ordain'd this kind relief,
That music should in sounds convey
What dying lovers dare not say,

A sigh, or tear, perhaps, she'll give,
But love on pity cannot live.
Tell her, that hearts for hearts were made,
And love with love is only paid.
Tell her, my pains so fast increase,
That soon they will be past redress ; :
For ah! the wretch that speechless lies,
Attends but death to close his eyes.


Yes, fairest proof of beauty's power,

Dear idol of my panting heart; Nature points this my fatal hour;

And I have liv'd; and we must part.

While now I take my last adieu

Heave thou no sigh, nor shed a tear, Lest yet my half-clos'd eye may view

On earth an object worth its care.

From jealousy's tormenting strife

For ever be thy bosom freed; That nothing may disturb thy life

Content I hasten to the dead.

Yet when some better fated youth

Shall with his amorous parly move thee, Reflect one moment on his truth

Who dying thus persists to love thee.


In vain you tell your parting lover You wish fair winds may waft him over : Alas! what winds can happy prove That bear me far from what I love? Alas! what dangers on the main Can equal those which I sustain. From slighted vows and cold disdain? Be gentle, and in pity choose To wish the wildest tempests loose; That, thrown again upon the coast Where first my shipwreck'd heart was lost, I may once more repeat my pain, Once more in dying notes complain Of slighted vows and cold disdain.

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The heavy hours are almost past

That part my love and me; My longing eyes may hope at last

Their only wish to see.

But how, my Delia, will you meet

The man you've lost so long? Will love in all your pulses beat,

And tremble on your tongue ?

Will you in every look declare

Your heart is still the same; And heal each idle anxious care

Our fears in absence frame ? :

Thus Delia, thus I paint the scene

When shortly we shall meet, And try what yet remains between

Of loit'ring time to cheat...

But if the dream that sooths my mind.

Shall false and groundless prove, If I am doom'd at length to find in

You have forgot to love; 'is

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