Page:Poetical Works of the Right Hon. Geo. Granville.djvu/149

Rh How calm ’s the ſky! how undiſturb’d the deep! Nature is huſh’d, the very tempeſts ſteep; The drowſy winds breathe gently thro’ the trees, And ſilent on the beach repoſe the ſeas: Love only wakes: the ſtorm that tears my breaſt For ever rages, and diſtracts my reſt. O Love! relentleſs Love! tyrant accurs’d! In deſerts bred, by Cruel tigers nurs’d. Begin, begin, the myſtic ſpells prepare; Bring Mira back, my perjur’d wanderer.

This riband that once bound her lovely waiſt, O that my arms might gird her there as faſt! Smiling ſhe gave it, and I priz’d it more Than the rich zone th’ Idalian goddeſs wore: This riband, this lov’d relic of the fair, So kiſs’d, and ſo preſerv’d—thus—thus I tear. O Love! why doſt thou thus delight to rend My ſoul with pain? ah! why torment thy friend? Begin, begin, the myſtic ſpells prepare; Bring Mira back, my perjur’d wanderer.

Thrice have I ſacrific’d, and, proſtrate, thrice Ador’d: aſſiſt, ye Pow’rs! the ſacrifice. Whoe’er he is whom now the fair beguiles With guilty glances and with perjur’d ſmiles, Malignant vapours blaſt his impious head, Ye lightnings ſcorch him, thunder ſtrike him dead,