the wisht Close of Evening's welcome gloom,
My longing steps reacht an inviting Bloom;
Whose untrod Paths the sadning Cypress grac't,
And in small Plats were softer Myrtles plac't.
The lofty Cedars with extended Arms,
Twine to keep off the force of roughest Storms;
And numerous tow'ring Arbourets they made,
The solemn Glory of the pleasing Shade:
On verdant Moss, Nature's rich cloth of State,
By a clear thrilling Stream supine I sate:
Upon my Hand my thoughtful Head reclin'd,
Sad soft Ideas entertain'd my Mind,
And I to  some Lovers fate inclin'd;
But strait , whom I did invoke,
Forbid my Choice, her Speech abruptly broke,
At last in Sighs the Interdiction spoke.
Ye shall no more write tender moving Strains,
To please the Nymphs and melt the wishing Swains
But to the World my Sorrows you shall tell,
How I have  since the lost Heroe fell,
My darling  whom I lov'd so well.
He who has done such Glories to my Name,
Immortal as my self has made my Fame;
Watchful as Lovers I first saw his Fate
With raging Sounds  loss relate.
Call'd all my Sisters with my frantick Cries,
And every God to  in th' Obsequies,
With Tears made  brackish as the Seas.
Like a deserted Maid in Wild Despair,
I tore my Myrtle Wreath and flowing Hair,
My Mantle rent and shatter'd in the Air;
Then in loose Cypriss vail'd  useless Charms,
Sigh'd till I turn'd our  into Storms.
No more I'll wanton on our Mountains brow,
Nor curious Pains upon my Locks bestow;
In amorous Folds my Rosey Mantle twine,
And sooth soft Languishments in airs Divine:
But careless throw me in some dusky Shade,
Which Willows, Cypress, Yew has awful made,
There to my Votress Eccho I'll complain,
Whose Complaisance reverberates again,
My piercing Groans thro' every Wood and Plain.
Thus I and she in  Eternal round,
Will my celestial Griefs for  Death resound.
, who with such Ardour did invoke,
That I thro' him my greatest Raptures spoke.
Whisper'd a thousand tender melting Things,
Till he writ Lays moving as  strings.
Oft I for Ink did radiant  bring,
And gave him Quills from infant  Wing:
Whose gentle force did as Victorious prove,
As if they'd been th' immortal Shafts of Love.
Warm'd every Breast with a surprizing Fire,
And in the nicest tenderest Thoughts inspire;
Such Lustre still grac't his magnetick Line,
It was both Irresistless and Divine.
With what celestial Cadence doth he tell,
The pristine Joys of Love, e'er Mankind fell;
When in the blooming Grove the first kind Pair,
With amorous Sighs fan'd the ambrosial Air:
Smiling on flowry Banks supinely laid,
The ardent Youth prest the unblushing Maid.
In his soft Lines such Extacies they Boast,
To hear  loves Rivals the Bliss they lost;
When  Passion he adorns,
How Nobly  the Empire scorns:
Dissolv'd in her kind Arms transported lay,
For Love's soft Joy, gave the rough Crown away.
Such Realms of Bliss the Hero there possest,
Sighing fond Vows on her returning Breast;
Who reads their Languishments their Passions feel,
Intranc't in Joys too exquisite to tell.
When an incestuous Flame his Theme has been,
He almost  us to forgive the Sin.
My favourite  strains I did improve,
And taught my  tenderer  of Love;
Arts had our addressing  known,
, tho' coy, had not Unconquer'd flown,
But brought the Hero forth, and not their Crown.
He so advanc'd whatever I bestow'd,
I was Love's Muse, but he himself the God.