To – in Mourning.
AH! why those tears in Nelly’s eyes;
To hear thy tender sighs and cries,
The gods stand list’ning from the skies,
Pleas’d with thy piety.
To mourn the dead, dear nymph, forbear,
And of one dying take a care,
Who views thee as an angel fair,
Or some divinity.
O be less graceful, or more kind,
And cool this fever of my mind,
Caus’d by the boy severe and blind;
Wounded I sigh for thee;
While hardly dare I hope to rise
To such a height by Hymen’s ties,
To lay me down where Hellen lies,
And with thy charms be free.
Then must I hide my love, and die,
When such a sovereign cure is by;
No; she can love and I’ll go try,
Whate’er my fate may be,
Which soon I’ll read in her bright eyes,
With those dear agents I’ll advise,
They tell the truth when tongues tell lies,
The least believ’d by me.