Page:The Amyntas of Tasso (1770) - Percival Stockdale.djvu/51

The delicate emotions of her nature;
Since she denies her lover that compassion
Which even the world inanimate vouchsafes him.

THYRSIS.
 'Tis the lamb's joy to crop the tender herbs
The wolf's regale is to devour the lamb;
But more inexorable love delights
In the fell homage of a harsher tribute;
Sighs are his incense; his libation, tears.

AMYNTAS.
 Alas! my Thyrsis, love is surely sated
With my reiterated sighs, and tears:
The savage god is thirsting for my blood;
And soon it shall be shed; soon shall stern Cupid,
With sterner Sylvia; view my deadly wound,
And with their eyes enjoy life's crimson flood,
My spreading paleness, and my last convulsions.

THYRSIS.
 You rave, Amyntas; moderate you passion
With reason; you may find another mistress,
If you're despised by this inhuman fair one.

AMYN.