Page:Poems upon Several Occasions.djvu/176

164 Recall more gently my unhappy State, And charge my Crime, not on my Choice, but Fate: In Mortal Breast, sure, Honour never wag'd So dire a War, nor Love more fiercely rag'd; You saw my Torment, and you knew my Heart, 'Twas Infamy to slay, 'twas Death to part.

Ori. In vain you'd cover, with the Thirst of Fame, And Honour's Call, an odious Traitor's Name; Cou'd Honour such vile Perfidy approve? Is it no Honour, to be true to Love? O Venus! Parent of the Teojan Race, In Britain too, some Remnants found a Place; From Brute descending in a Line direct, Within these Veins, thy fav'rite Blood respect; Mother of Love, by Men and Gods rever'd, Confirm these Vows, and let this Pray'r be heard. The Briton to the Gaul henceforth shall bear Immortal Hatred, and Eternal War; Nor League, nor Commerce, let the Nations know, But Seeds of everlasting Discord grow; With Fire and Sword the faithless Race pursue, This Vengeance to my injur'd Love is due: Rise from our Ashes some avenging Hand, To curb their Tyrants, and invade their Land, Waves fight with Waves, and Shores with Shores engage, And let our Sons inherit the same Rage.

Amad. Might I be heard one Word in my Defence Rh