Emillia to Evander--In Renewed Jealousy

The wailful accents of an heart in pain, The sigh prophetic, the upbraiding tear— Can their obtrusive sorrows hope to gain My wandering lover’s cold, reluctant ear?

My lover!—I renounce th’ expression vain;— How vain, ingrate! thy alienated eyes To LYDIA’s flatter’d pride too well explain, Thy soft attentions, thy desiring sighs.

Once they were mine;—but they are mine no more! Yet how I prized them all too well thou know’st; Well as I know complaint will ne’er restore My powerless eyes the empire they have lost.

This younger, gayer rival, who obtains The vows, long-pledged to me—will her light heart Thrill with the pleasures, tremble with the pains Thy griefs inflict, or that thy joys impart?

Tho’ Time has still, in all their power to please, Left the unfaded graces of thy form, Yet oh! his iron hand must shortly seize That air, that look, with love and transport warm.

Seize them with blighting force, ere LYDIA’s youth, And scanty stock of beauty, scanty sure! Shall pass away;—then can’st thou trust her truth? Hope for attachment permanent and pure?

Hope it from such an heart, from such a mind, When thy yet lovely form dim age assails, And, from their now meridian course declined, Shrouds all thy graces in his icy veils?

Ah, no!—disparity, the scorner’s jest, Shall gloom with sad distrust each passing day, And to the pillow of thy midnight rest The wounding thorns of jealousy convey.

Thy grieved remonstrance then will LYDIA hear? Vouchsafe to sooth thee e’en with faithless vows? Check, for EVANDER’s peace, her gay career, And shun the pleasures honour disallows?

O! when th’ uplifted eye-brow’s steady scorn Shall rack thy fondness, and confirm thy fears, Each hope of thine to soften, or to warn, Vain as my sighs, and wasted as my tears,

Then of the throes, that now my bosom swell, Perfidious! shalt thou feel how sharp the pain, And my proud rival shall avenge me well On all thy broken vows and cold disdain!