THE VOYAGES, TRAVELS, AND MEMOIRS OF WILLIAM OWEN GWIN VAUGHAN, Esq, THE BALLAD

Damon, whose tuneful Pipe had Charms, To wound and heal the wondring Throng, Long courted CAELIA to his Arms, 'Twas CAELIA that inspir'd his Song.

The lovely Virgin joys to hear His thrilling Pipe, and humble Verse; Yet frowns, when Sighs his Pains declare, Regardless of his Happiness.

A sullen Swain, whose Wealth was great, By Force of Gold, her Parent gains: Poor DAMON, he bewails his Fate, In sighing melancholy Strains.

And thus complains — Accursed Gold! Thou base Betrayer of my Love! Mean are the Hearts are bought, or sold; 'Tis Int'rest does the Fair One move.

The Nuptial Day was fixt, and near, Which added to poor DAMON's Smart, Who ev'ry Moment dropt a Tear, The Prelude to a broken Heart.

The dusky Morn came low'ring on, When all for Church prepare to go; The sable Clouds obscur'd the Sun, As loth to see the Lover's Woe.

The jocund Bridegroom, swell'd with Joy, Ey'd CAELIA, as he pass'd along. Exulting o'er the lovesick Boy, Who faintly press'd among the Throng.

With wat'ry Eyes he view'd the Bride, Who, seeing DAMON, sigh'd aloud! And trembling by the Bridegroom's Side, The Wonder of the gazing Crowd.

Some pity'd DAMON; others rail: Such Wretches are no Friends to Love; On such the God will ne'er prevail, To sigh within the Paphian Grove.

Poor Slaves to low and base Desires, 'Tis Love that new-creates the Mind! Without his pleasing, gentle Fires, We're sordid Metal, unrefin'd.

DAMON, depress'd with mortal Grief, Walks slowly by the River's Side; By Hope forsaken! No Relief! And all his Thoughts were on the Bride.

Ye murm'ring Streams! the Shepherd cry'd, Who oft have heard my plaintive Voice, Convey my Body to the Bride, And shew that Death is now my Choice.

Fond Love, farewell! Adieu, vain Dream! Farewell to ev'ry Grief and Pain; Thus said, he plung'd amid the Stream, And ne'er rose up to Life again.

The rapid Torrent rolls him down, Depriv'd, alas! of breathing Life, Regardless now of CAELIA's Frown, Who now returns, a Virgin Wife.

The Stream, repenting of the Deed, Threw DAMON's Corpse upon the Grass, Scarce cold (from Worldly Troubles freed) Where CAELIA, and her Train, must pass.

But when she view'd the well-known Face, And knew each pale, dead Feature there, She cry'd, poor DAMON! hapless Case! My stubborn Heart was too severe.

But why do I accuse my Heart? 'Twas always thine, poor lifeless Boy! In all thy Pains it bore a Part, A Part in ev'ry Grief, or Joy.

My rigid Parent caus'd this Woe, Whose flinty Heart no Love can prove; 'Tis he has wrought thy Overthrow, And robb'd me of my only Love.

But, since on Earth we cou'd not wed, This only Comfort still I have, My Heart shall join our Hands; tho' dead, We'll keep our Nuptials in the Grave.

Then kneeling down, his Lips she press'd, And, eager, clasp'd his pale cold Hand; The other beat her troubled Breast, While all the Hearers wondring stand.

Come, gentle Death, the Virgin cry'd, Give DAMON to my longing Breast! She sighing wept, and sighing dy'd, Replete with Woe, and sunk to Rest.