FROM
HORACE.
Dialogue between Horace and Lydia,
“Donec gratus eram.”
HORACE. |
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WHILST Horace in his Lydia’s
arms,
Shar’d, fondly shar’d, her blooming
charms,
Nor knew a rival there;
Not all the blifs that monarchs own,
Not all the wealth of Persia’s throne,
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5 |
| With
Horace could compare. |
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LYDIA.
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Whilst you a mutual fondness shew’d,
Nor with a warmer feeling glow’d,
For Chloe than for me;
Not ev’n the Roman Ilia’s name
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10 |
Flourished
with half so fair a fame,
As Lydia’s bless’d with thee.
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HORACE.
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Me
now the Thracian Chloe sways,
And lulls me with the am’rous lays
Her love has taught to flow;
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15 |
For
her, I would not shrink from Death,
Would but the Gods prolong her breath,
And grant her bliss below! [Page 42]
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CHLOE.
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Me
the Thurinian Calaïs fires,
And my enraptur’d soul inspires,
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20 |
With
more than mutual joy;
Death’s fiercest pangs I twice would
brave,
Could I but rescue from the grave,
My dearer life—the boy!
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HORACE.
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| What
if our fondness, tho’ resign’d, |
25 |
Ev’n
now renew’d, our hearts should bind,
In its resistless chain;
If Chloe should be seen no more;
And Horace ope his willing door
To Lydia’s arms again?
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30 |
CHLOE.
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Tho’
he is beauteous as a star;
Your faithless bosom lighter far,
Than man’s retiring breath;
Still would I wish to nestle there;
With thee the joys of life to share
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35 |
| With
thee the pangs of Death! [Page 43] |
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