Chill the warm cheek, and blast the bloom of life! Neglected fortune flies; and sliding swift, Prone into ruin, fall his scorn'd affairs. 'Tis nought but gloom around: the darkened sun Loses his light. The rosy-bosom'd Spring To weeping Fancy pines; and yon bright arch, Contracted, bends into a dusky vault. All Nature fades extinct; and she alone Heard, felt, and seen, possesses every thought, Fills every sense, and pants in every vein. Books are but formal dulness, tedious friends; And sad amid the social band he sits, Lonely, and unattentive. From his tongue Th' unfinish'd period falls: while, borne away On swelling thought, his wasted spirit flies To the vain bosom of his distant fair; And leaves the semblance of a lover, fix'd In melancholy site, with head declin'd, And love-dejected eyes. Sudden he starts, Shook from his tender trance, and restless runs To glimmering shades, and sympathetic glooms; Where the dun umbrage o'er the falling stream, Romantic, hangs; there thro' the pensive dusk Strays, in heart thrilling meditation lost,
Indulging all to love; or on the bank Thrown, amid drooping lilies, swells the breeze
With sighs unceasing, and the brook with tears. Thus in soft anguish he consumes the day, Nor quits his deep retirement, till the Moon Peeps thro' the chambers of the fleecy east, Enlighten'd by degrees, and in her train Leads on the gentle hours; then forth he walks, Beneath the trembling languish of her beam, With softened soul; and wooes the bird of eve To mingle woes with his or, while the world And all the sons of Care lie hush'd in sleep, Associates with the midnight shadows drear; And, sighing to the lonely taper, pours His idly-tortur'd heart into the page, Meant for the moving messenger of love; Where rapture burns on rapture, every line With rising frenzy fir'd. But if on bed Delirious flung, sleep from his pillow flies. All night he tosses, nor the balmy power In any posture finds; till the grey morn Lifts her pale lustre on the paler wretch, Exanimate by love and then perhaps Exhausted Nature sinks a while to rest,
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Still interrupted by distracted dreams, That o'er the sick imagination rise And in black colours paint the mimic scene. Oft with th' enchantress of his soul he talks; Sometimes in crouds distress'd; or if retir'd The secret winding flower-enwoven bowers, Far from the dull impertinence of Man, Just as he, credulous, his endless cares Begins to lose in blind oblivious love, Snatch'd from her yielded hand, he knows not how, Thro' forests huge, and long untravel'd heaths With desolation brown, he wanders waste, In night and tempest wrapt; or shrinks aghast, Back, from the bending precipice; or wades The turbid stream below, and strives to reach The farther shore; where succourless, and sad, She with extended arms his aid implores; But strives in vain borne by th' outrageous flood To distance down, he rides the ridgy wave, Or whelm'd beneath the boiling eddy sinks. These are the charming agonies of love, Whose misery delights. But thro' the heart Should jealousy its venom once diffuse, 'Tis then delightful misery no more,
But agony unmix'd, incessant gall, Corroding every thought, and blasting all Love's paradise. Ye fairy prospects, then, Ye beds of roses, and ye bowers of joy, Farewel! Ye gleamings of departed peace, Shine out your last! the yellow-tinging plague Internal vision taints, and in a night Of livid gloom imagination wraps. Ah then! instead of love-enliven'd cheeks, Of sunny features, and of ardent eyes With flowing rapture bright, dark looks succeed, Suffus'd and glaring with untender fire; A clouded aspect, and a burning cheek, Where the whole poison'd soul, malignant sits, And frightens love away. Ten thousand fears Invented wild, ten thousand frantic views Of horrid rivals, hanging on the charms For which he melts in fondness, eat him up With fervent anguish, and consuming rage. In vain reproaches lend their idle aid, Deceitful pride, and resolution frail, Giving false peace a moment. Fancy pours, Afresh, her beauties on his busy thought, Her fast endearments twining round the soul,
With all the witchcraft of ensnaring love. Straight the fierce storm involves his mind anew, Flames thro' the nerves, and boils along the veins; While anxious doubt distracts the tortur'd heart: For even the sad assurance of his fears Were ease to what he feels. Thus the warm youth, Whom love deludes into his thorny wilds, Thro' flowery-tempting paths, or leads a life Of fevered rapture, or of cruel care; His brightest flames extinguished all, and all His brightest moments running down to waste. But happy they! the happiest of their kind! Whom gentler stars unite, and in one fate Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend. 'Tis not the coarser tie of human laws, Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind, That binds their peace, but harmony itself, Attuning all their passions into love; Where friendship full-exerts her softest power, Perfect esteem enlivened by desire Ineffable, and sympathy of soul; Thought meeting thought, and will preventing will, With boundless confidence: for nought but love Can answer love, and render bliss secure.
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