This page has been validated.
Poems upon several Occasions.
43
In vain the Dart or glittering Sword we shun,
Condemn'd to perish by the slaught'ring Gun.
Myra in her Riding Habit.
WHEN Myra in her Sex's Garb we see,
The Queen of Beauty then she seems to be;
Now, fair Adonis in this Male-disguise,
Or Cupid, killing with his Mother's Eyes:
No Style of Empire chang'd by this remove,
Who seem'd the Goddess, seems the God of Love.
SONG to MYRA.
FOrsaken of my kindly Stars,
Within this melancholy Grove
I waste my Days and Nights in Tears,
A Victim to ungrateful Love.
The happy still untimely end,
Death flies from Grief, or why should I
So many Hours in Sorrow spend,
Wishing, alas! in vain to die?
Ye Pow'rs! take Pity of my Pain,
Thus, only this, is my Desire;
Ah!
