15 And while I suffer this to give him quiet, On his eyes will I gaze, and there delight me; Nor can I fall more low, mounting no higher. 5 ΤΟ SONG From The Indian Emperor AH fading joy! how quickly art thou past! As if the cares of human life were few, We seek out new: And follow fate, that does too fast pursue. See, how on every bough the birds express, But on their mother nature lay their care: As none of all his subjects undergo? Hark, hark, the waters fall, fall, fall, And with a murmuring sound ANNE, COUNTESS OF WINCHILSEA THE CHANGE POOR River, now thou'rt almost dry, What Flocks, or Herds, will near thee stay? 5 The Swans, that sought thee in thy Pride, Now on new Streams forgetful ride: ΙΟ 15 20 And Fish, that in thy Bosom lay, To waste thy sad Remains in Tears; Nor will thy mournful Murmurs heed. Amongst those solid Rocks thy Griefs bestow; And thou, poor Sun! that sat'st on high; But late, the Splendour of the Sky; What Flow'r tho' by thy Influence born, What Persian Votary will bow? What River will her Smiles reflect, Now that no Beams thou can'st direct? Who thinks upon thy Glories past? If present Light, nor Heat we get, Not all the past can one Adorer keep, Nor do thou, lofty Structure! boast, Thou hast bestowed, can give thee Praise. No lusty Tree that near thee grows, (Tho' it beneath thy Shelter rose) Will to thy Age a Staff become. Fall, wretched Building! to the Tomb. 40 Thou, and thy painted Roofs, in Ruin mixt, The same, poor Man, the same must be 45 No Love, sown in thy prosp'rous Days, 50 Can in this time of Storms be heard. 55 O wretched Man! to other Worlds repair; 5 TO MR. POPE THE muse, of ev'ry heav'nly gift allowed And in each verse he draws a bill on fame. For none have writ (whatever they pretend) 10 The celebrating poems of the age; 15 To hide their judgments who applaud your wit. |