Page:Poetical Works of the Right Hon. Geo. Granville.djvu/150

138 Horror of conſcience all his ſlumbers break, Diſtract his reſt, as love keeps me awake; If marry’d, may his wife a Helen be, And curs’d and ſcorn’d like Menelaus he! Begin, begin, the myſtic ſpells prepare; Bring Mira back, my perjur’d wanderer.

Theſe pow’rful drops thrice on the threſhold pour, And bathe with this enchanted juice her door; That door where no admittance now is found, But where my ſoul is ever hov’ring round. Haſte and obey; and binding be the ſpell. Here ends my charm; O Love! ſucceed it well: By force of magic ſtop the flying fair, Bring Mira back, my perjur’d wanderer.

Thou ’rt now alone, and painful is reſtraint; Eaſe thy preſs’d heart, and give thy ſorrows vent; Whence ſprang, and how began, theſe griefs declare, How much thy love, how cruel thy deſpair. Ye Moon and Stars! by whoſe auſpicious light I haunt theſe groves, and waſte the tedious night, Tell, for you know the burthen of my heart, Its killing anguiſh, and its ſecret ſmart.

Too late for hope, for my repoſe too ſoon, I ſaw, and lov’d; her heart, engag’d, was gone;