JULIA to EDWARD. The Effusion of a broken Heart

Read, if thou canst—can Edward read unmov'd? Nor weep her woes, who much too fondly lov'd: Excess of Love, was all the guilt I knew, (If guilt there was in Julia's Love to you.) Oh! could I add that I no longer burn, Regret thy change, or thy indiff'rence mourn; With proper scorn thy perfidy detest, And drive the faithless traitor from my breast: No greater boon I seek from fate to gain; I ask but bare exemption from my pain: Grateful for this, when I no longer please, To boast Contentment, and a mind at ease. Content! ah, vague, inefficacious sound! Say, can Content, with Love like mine, be found? Love, disappointed, knows of no relief; No friendly respite, or allay of grief: O'er all my frame the mad'ning passion glows, Destroys my quiet, and precludes repose; My bosom labours with incessant sighs, And endless floods obscure my languid eyes: Around my heart eternal tortures prey— Slow wastes my form, and all my charms decay. Yet, why should I ignobly thus complain? Thy flinty heart regardst not Julia's pain! Curse on the weakness of my grov'ling mind To Love!—to live!—yet know that thou'rt unkind. Ah! wretched me! ah! too —fated Maid! Seduc'd—deserted—ruin'd and betray'd— No brighten'd ray of Hope my prospect chears! Consign'd to Woe, to Infamy and Tears! Doom'd to regret, yet deeper blast my fame; Weep o'er my virtue, and pursue my shame. Where can I go!—ah! whither can I flee! Can I, by flying Edward—fly from thee! Where'er I turn, thy image still pursues, Nor all my art can thy rememb'rance lose. Here, if I seek the shelter of the grove, The letter'd rind awakens all my love; Each tree, inscrib'd, some sad memento bears, And what I was, retentive, envious wears: Or, if I stray along the winding stream, Each well known bank obtrudes thee as their theme; Here, as I view the lympid mirror flow, Its gurgling murmurs but enhance my woe: Wont to reflect on those delightsome hours, When we together sought the noon-tide bow'rs; Together wander'd o'er the levell'd vale, In mutual fondness—Love, the pleasing tale! Ye fleeting transports! say, where are ye flown! With thee, my Edward, all my joys are gone; Nor grove, nor vale, nor purling rills, delight, Or longer please the hapless Julia's sight. Farewell, false world! far distant I retire, From flattering joys, and all the gay admire: May some lone Cavern be my last retreat, Where howling winds, & storms, tempestuous beat; Where not the sun extends his faintest ray, Sadly impervious, to the glare of day: Here let me rest, obscur'd in awful gloom; Be this at once my mansion, and my tomb: Here may relenting Fates some pity prove, Estrange my breast to all the pangs of Love; Intense desire, and keen emotion, cease, And ev'ry glowing thought be hush'd to peace:— No, not the Cell to human haunts unknown, Or Cave, rough-hewn from earth's unmoulded stone, To Love like mine can yield a short relief, Or sooth the impetuous agony of grief: 'Tis wild distraction all!—thy Julia raves!— Peace can alone await her in the grave! This shall my tumults, shall my pangs compose, And grant a long, sad refuge to my woes: Deep in the dark oblivion of the dead, From Life remov'd, and all my Passion fled,— The world shall cease to persecute my name— Perchance commiserate my tragic flame: Thou too, distress'd, the mournful tale shall hear, And, conscious, shed the soft cmpassion'd tear; Weep o'er my Mem'ry, and my faults forgive, And wish again thy Julia might live; Think I could bear all else impos'd by fate— Alone unable to support thy hate:— Thy heart estrang'd, life but a burden proves— Curs'd is existence to despairing love.

Farewell!—my Edward still too dear I own— Dear, tho' in thee my fairest joys are blown; My fatal fondness shall no period know, Whilst life's warm springs through this frail system flow; Thee I resign but with my latest breath, And vanquish Love but in the sleep of death: Farewell forever! to my hapless view— Thy Julia, trembling, signs her long, & last—adieu!