Page:Poetical Works of the Right Hon. Geo. Granville.djvu/147



, mix the philtres—Quick—ſhe flies, ſhe flies, Deaf to my call, regardleſs of my cries. Are vows ſo vain? could oaths ſo feeble prove? Ah! with what eaſe ſhe breaks thoſe chains of love! Whom Love with all his force had bound in vain, Let charms compel, and magic rites regain. Begin, begin, the myſtic ſpells prepare; Bring Mira back, my perjur’d wanderer.

Queen of the Night, bright empreſs of the ſtars, The friend of Love! aſſiſt a lover’s cares: And thou, infernal Hecate! be nigh, At whoſe approach fierce wolves affrighted fly, Dark tombs diſcloſe their dead, and hollow cries Echo from under ground, Ariſe, ariſe. Begin, begin, the myſtic ſpells prepare; Bring Mira back, my perjur’d wanderer.

As crackling in the fire this laurel lies, So ſtruggling in love’s flame her lover dies: