EMMA.

rove.

EMMA.

Those seats, whence long excluded, thou must 'Tis long since Cynthia and her train were there, mourn :

Or guardian gods made innocence their care.
That gate, for ever barr'd to thy return:

Vagrants and qutlaws shall offend thy view :
Wilt thou not then bewail ill-fated love,

For such must be my friends, a hideous crew,
And hate a banish'd man, condemnd in woods to By adverse fortune mix'd in social ill,
rove?

Train'd to assault, and disciplin'd to kill;
Their common loves, a lewd abandon'd pack,

The beadle's lash still flagrant on their back:
Thy rise of fortune did I only wed,

By sloth corrupted, by disorder fed,
From its decline determin'd to recede;

Made bold by want, and prostitute for bread :
Did I but purpose to embark with thee

With such must Emma hunt the tedious day,
On the smooth surface of a summer's sea ;

Assist their violence, and divide their prey :
While gentle zephyrs play in prosperous gales, With such she must return at setting light,
And Fortune's fa vor fills the swelling sails; Though not partaker, witness of their night.
But would forsake the ship, and make the shore, Thy ear, inur'd to charitable sounds
When the winds whistle, and the tempests roar ? And pitying love, must feel the hateful wounds
No, Henry, no: one sacred oath has tied

Of jest obscene and vulgar ribaldry,
Our loves : one destiny our life shall guide; The ill-bred question, and the lewd reply ;
Nor wild nor deep our common way divide. Brought by long habitude from bad to worse,

When from the cave thou risest with the day, Must hear the frequent oath, the direful curse,
To beat the woods, and rouse the bounding prey ; That latest weapon of the wretches' war,
The cave with moss and branches I'll adorn, And blasphemy, sad comrade of despair.
And cheerful sit, to wait my lord's return :

Now, Emma, now the last reflection make,
And, when thou frequent bring'st the smitten deer, What thou wouldst follow, what thou must for.
(For seldom, archers say, thy arrows err)

sake :
I'll fetch quick fuel from the neighboring wood, By our ill-omen'd stars, and adverse Heaven,
And strike the sparkling flint, and dress the food ; No middle object to thy choice is given.
With humble duty, and officious haste,

Or yield thy virtue, to attain thy love;
I'll cull the furthest mead for thy repast;

Or leave a banish'd man, condemn'd in woods to
The choicest herbs I to thy board will bring,
And draw thy water from the freshest spring :
And, when at night with weary toil opprest;
Soft slumbers thou enjoy’st, and wholesome rest, O grief of heart! that our unhappy fate
Watchful I'll guard thee, and with midnight prayer Force thee to suffer what thy honor hates :
Weary the gods to keep thee in their care ; Mix thee amongst the bad; or make thee run
And joyous ask, at morn's returning ray,

Too near the paths which Virtue bids thee shun.
If thou hast health, and I may bless the day. Yet with her Henry still let Emma go;
My thoughts shall fix, my latest wish depend, With him abhor the vice, but share the woe :
On thee, guide, guardian, kinsman, father, friend : And sure my little heart can never err
By all these sacred names be Henry known Amidst the worst, if Henry still be there.
To Emma's heart; and grateful let him own

Our outward act is prompted from within ;
That she, of all mankind, could love but him alone! And from the sinner's mind proceeds the sin :

By her own choice free Virtue is approv'd ;

Nor by the force of outward objects mov'd.
Vainly thou tell’st me, what the woman's care Who has assay'd no danger, gains no praise.
Shall in the wildness of the wood prepare : In a small isle, amidst the wildest seas,
Thou, ere thou goest, unhappiest of thy kind, Triumphant Constancy has fix'd her seat:
Must leave the habit and the sex behind.

In vain the Syrens sing, the tempests beat :
No longer shall thy comely tresses break

Their flattery she rejects, nor fears their threat.
In flowing ringlets on thy snowy neck;

For thee alone these little charms I drest:
Or sit behind thy head, an ample round,

Condemn'd them, or absolv'd them by thy test.
In graceful braids with various ribbon bound : In comely figure rang'd my jewels shone,
No longer shall the bodice aptly lac'd,

Or negligently plac'd for thee alone :
From thy full bosom to thy slender waist,

For thee again they shall be laid aside ;
That air and harmony of shape express,

The woman, Henry, shall put off her pride
Fine by degrees, and beautifully less :

For thee: my clothes, my sex, exchang’d for thee,
Nor shall thy lower garments' artful plait, I'll mingle with the people's wretched lee :
From thy fair side dependent to thy feet,

O line extreme of human infamy!
Arm their chaste beauties with a modest pride, Wanting the scissars, with these hands I'll tear
And double every charm they seek to hide. (If that obstructs my flight) this load of hair.
Th' ambrosial plenty of thy shining hair, Black soot, or yellow walnut, shall disgrace
Cropt off and lost, scarce lower than thy ear This little red and white of Emma's face.
Shall stand uncouth: a horseman's coat shall hide These nails with scratehes shall deform my breast,
Thy taper shape, and comeliness of side :

Lest by my look or color be express'd
The short trunk-hose shall show thy foot and knee The mark of aught high-born, or ever better dress'd.
Licentious, and to common eye-sight free: Yet in this commerce, under this disguise,
And, with a bolder stride and looser air,

Let me be grateful still to Henry's eyes;
Mingled with men, a man thou must appear. Lost to the world, let me to him be known :

Nor solitude, nor gentle peace of mind, My fate I can absolve, if he shall own
Mistaken maid, shalt thou in forests find :

That, leaving all mankind, I love but him alone.

HENRY.

HENRY.

to rove.

EMMA.

rove.

EMMA.

Why shouldst thou weep? let Nature judge our

case ; O wildest thoughts of an abandon'd mind !

I saw thee young and fair; pursued the chase

Of Youth and Beauty: I another saw
Name, habit, parents, woman, left behind,
Ev'n honor dubious, thou preferr'st to go

Fairer and younger: yielding to the law

of our all-ruling mother, I pursued Wild to the woods with me : said Emma so?

More youth, more beauty: blest vicissitude ! Or did I dream what Einma never said ?

My active heart still keeps its pristine flame; O guilty error! and O wretched maid !

The object alter'd, the desire the same. Whose roving fancy would resolve the same

This younger, fairer, pleads her rightful charms; With him, who next should tempt her easy fame; And blow with empty words the susceptible flame. With present power compels me to her arms.

And much I fear, from my subjected mind, Now why should doubtful terms thy mind perplex ?

(If Beauty's force to constant love can bind,) Consess ihy frailty, and avow the sex :

That years may roll, ere in her turn the maid
No longer loose desire for constant love
Mistake : but say, 'tis man with whom thợu long'st And weeping follow me, as thou dost now,

Shall weep the fury of my love decay'd;
With idle clamors of a broken vow.

Nor can the wildness of thy wishes err

So wide, 10 hope that thou may'st live with her. Are there not poisons, racks, and flames, and Love, well thou know'st, no partnership allows : swords,

Cupid averse rejects divided vows: That Emma thus must die by Henry's words ?

Then, from thy foolish heart, vain maid, remove Yet what could swords or poison, racks or flame,

An useless sorrov, and an ill-starr'd love But mangle and disjoint this brittle frame!

And leave me, with the fair, at large in woons to More fatal Henry's words; they murder Emma's fame.

And fall these sayings from that gentle tongue, Where civil speech and soft persuasion hung; Whose artsul sweetness and harmonious strain, Courting my grace, yet courting it in vain,

Are we in life through one great error led ? Callid sighs, and tears, and wishes, 10 its aid;

Is each man perjur'd, and each nymph betray'd ? And, whilst it Henry's glowing flame convey'd,

Of the superior sex art thou the worst? Still blam'd the coldness of the Nut-brown Maid? Am I of mine the most completely curst? Let en vious Jealousy and canker'd Spite

Yet let me go with thee ; and going prove, Produce my actions to severest light,

From what I will endure, how much I love. And tax my open day, or secret night.

This potent beauty, this triumphant fair Did e'er my tongue speak my unguarded heart

This happy object of our different care, The least inclin'd to play the wanton's part ?

Her let me follow; her let me attend Did e'er my eye one inward thought reveal,

A servant (she may scorn the name of friend). Which angels might not hear, and virgins tell ?

What she demands, incessant I 'll prepare : And hast thou, Henry, in my conduct known I'll weave her garlands; and I'll plait her hair : One fault, but that which I must never own,

My busy diligence shall deck her board, That I, of all mankind, have lov'd but thee alone? (For there at least I may approach my lord,)

And, when her Henry's softer hours advise

His servant's absence, with dejected eyes
Vainly thou talk'st of loving me alone :

Far I'll recede, and sighs forbid to rise.
Each man is man; and all our sex is one.

Yet, when increasing grief brings slow disease, False are our words, and fickle is our mind :

And ebbing life, on terms severe as these, Nor in Love's ritual can we ever find

Will have its little lamp no longer sed; Vows made to last, or promises to bind.

When Henry's mistress shows him Emma dead; By Nature prompted, and for empire made,

Rescue my poor remains from vile neglect, Alike by strength or cunning we invade :

With virgin honors let my hearse be deckt,
When, arm'd with rage, we march against the foe, This happy nymph, that Emma may be laid

And decent emblem; and at least persuade
We lift the battle-ax and draw the bow:
When, fir'd with passion, we attack the fair,

Where thou, dear author of my death, where she, Delusive sighs and brittle vows we bear;

With frequent eye my sepulchre may see. Our falsehood and our arms have equal use ;

The nymph amidst her joys may haply breathe As they our conquest or delight produce.

One pions sigh, reflecting on my death, The foolish heart thou gav'st, again receive,

And the sad fate which she may one day prove, The only boon departing love can give.

Who hopes from Henry's vows eternal love. To be less wretched, be no longer true;

And thou forsworn, thou cruel, as thou art, What strives to fly thee, why shouldst thou pursue? If Emma's image ever touch'd thy heart; Forget the present fiame, indulge a new;

Thou sure must give one thought, and drop one tear Single the loveliest of the

To her, whom love abandon’d to despair;
Ask for his vow; but hope

amorous youth :
for his truth.

To her, who, dying, on the wounded stone
The next man

thou shalt believe)

Bid it in lasting characters be known. to deceive;

That, of mankind, she lov'd but thee alone. , implore,

HENRY.

(and the

pot

Will pawn, in fores, pintenant

next

persist,

IIENRY.

Be wise and false, shun Change thou the first,

Tercome, and leave. arrows right;

nor

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seek delight: ihy lover's flight.

Hear, solemn Jove; and conscious Venus, hear; And thou, bright maid, believe me whilst I swear.

yle,

No time, no change, no future flame, shall move Nor happiness can I, nor misery feel,
The well-plac'd basis of my lasting love.

From any turn of her fantastic wheel :
O powerful virtue! O victorious fair!

Friendship's great laws, and Love's superior powers, At least, excuse a trial too severe:

Must mark the color of my future hours. Receive the triumph, and forget the war.

From the events which thy commands create, No banish'd man, condemn'd in woods to rove, I must my blessings or my sorrows date ; Entreats thy pardon, and implores thy love : And Henry's will must dictate Emma's fate. No perjur'd knight desires to quit thy arras,

Yet, while with close delight and inward pride Fairest collection of thy sex's charms,

(Which from the world my careful soul shall hide) Crown of my love, and honor of my youth! I see thee, lord and end of my desire, Henry, thy Henry, with eternal truth,

Exalted high as virtue can require ; As thou may'st wish, shall all his life employ, With power invested, and with pleasure cheer'd; And found his glory in his Emma's joy.

Sought by the good, by the oppressor fear'd; In me behold the potent Edgar's heir,

Loaded and blest with all the affluent store, Illustrious earl: him terrible in war

Which human vows at smoking shrines implore ; Let Loyre confess, for she has felt his sword, Grateful and humble grant me to employ And trembling fled before the British lord. My lise subservient only to thy joy ; Him great in peace and wealth fair Deva knows; And at my death to bless thy kindness shown For she amidst his spacious meadows flows; To her, who of mankind could love but ihee alone. Inclines her urn upon his fatlen'd lands; And sees his numerous herds imprint her sands. While thus the constant pair alternate said, And thou, my fair, my dove, shalt raise thy Joyful above them and around them play'd thought

Angels and sportive Loves, a numerous crowd ; To greatness next to empire: shalt be brought Smiling they clapt their wings, and low they low'd. With solemn pomp to my paternal seat;

They tumbled all their liule quivers o'er, Where peace and plenty on thy word shall, wait. To choose propitious shafis, a precious store ; Music and song shall wake the marriage-day; That, when their god should take his future darts, And, whilst the priests accuse the bride's delay, To strike (however rarely) constant hearts, Myrtles and roses shall obstruct her way. His happy skill might proper arms employ, Friendship shall still thy evening feasts adorn; All tipt with pleasure, and all wing'd with joy : And blooming Peace shall ever bless thy morn. And those, they vow'd, whose lives should imitate Succeeding years their happy race shall run, These lovers' constancy, should share their fate. And Age, unheeded, by delight come on:

The queen of beauty stopt her bridled doves; While yet superior Love shall mock his power : Approv'd the little labor of the Loves; And when old Time shall turn the fated hour, Was proud and pleas'd the mutual vow to hear; Which only can our well-tied knot unfold, And to the triumph callid the god of war: What rests of both, one sepulchre shall hold. Soon as she calls, the god is always near.

Hence then for ever from my Emma's breast, " Now, Mars," she said, “let Fame exalt her (That heaven of softness, and that seat of rest,)

voice : Ye doubts and fears, and all that know to move Nor let thy conquests only be her choice : Tormenting grief, and all that trouble love, But, when she sings great Edward from the field Scatter'd by winds recede, and wild in forests rove. Return'd, the hostile spear and captive shield

In Concord's temple hung, and Gallia taught to EMMA. .

yield;

And when as prudent Saturn shall complete O day, the fairest sure that ever rose!

The years design'd to perfect Britain's stale, Period and end of anxious Emma's woes ! The swift-wing'd power shall take her trump again, Sire of her joy, and source of her delight; To sing her favorite Anna's wondrous reign; 0! wing'd with pleasure, take thy happy flight, To recollect unwearied Marlborough's toils, And give each future morn a tincture of thy white. Old Rufus' hall unequal 10 his spoils ; Yet tell thy volary, potent queen of love, The British soldier from his high command Henry, my Henry, will he never rove?

Glorious, and Gaul thrice vanquish'd by his hand :
Will he be ever kind, and just, and good ? Let her, at least, perform what I desire ;
And is there yet no mistress in the wood ?

With second breath the vocal brass inspire ;
None, none there is ; the thought was rash and vain; And tell the nations, in no vulgar strain,
A false idea, and a fancied pain.

What wars I manage, and what wreaths I gain. Doubt shall for ever quit my strengthen'd heart, And, when thy tumults and thy fights are past; And anxious jealousy's corroding smart;

And when thy laurels at my feet are cast; Nor other inmate shall inhabit there,

Faithful may'st thou, like British Henry, prove : But soft Belief, young Joy, and pleasing Care. And, Emma-like, let me return thy love.

Hence let the tides of plenty ebb and flow, “Renown'd for truth, let all thy sons appear; And Fortune's various gale unheeded blow. And constant beauty shall reward their care." If at my feet the suppliant goddess stands,

Mars smild, and bow'd: the Cyprian deity And sheds her treasure with unwearied hands; Turn'd to the glorious ruler of the sky; Her present favor cautious I'll embrace,

"And thou,” she smiling said, “ great god of days And not unthankful use the proffer'd grace: And verse, behold my deed, and sing my praise ; If she reclaims the lemporary boon,

As on the British earth, my favorite isle,
And tries her pinions, futtering to be gone; Thy genile rays and kindest influence smile,
Secure of mind, I'll obviate her intent,

Through all her laughing fields and verdant grores, And unconcern'd return the goods she lent. Proclaim with joy these memorable loves.

W

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