The owlet screams ill-boding sounds, Hen. I come, I come, my love! my life! And nature's dearest name, my wife! Long have I lov'd thee; long have sought; And dangers brav'd, and battles fought; In this embrace our evils end; From this our better days ascend; My lovely bride! my consort, come! Har. I fear to go Look back. -I dare not stay. -I dare not look that way. Hen. No evil ever shall betide My love, while I am at her side. Lo! thy protector and thy friend, The arms that fold thee will defend. Har. Still beats my bosom with alarms: I tremble while I'm in thy arms! What will impassion'd lovers do? Now, without father, mother, friend, Hen. My Harriet, dissipate thy fears, And let a husband wipe thy tears; For ever join'd our fates combine, And I am yours, and you are mine. The fires the firmament that rend, On this devoted head descend, If e'er in thought from thee I rove, Or love thee less than now I love! Although our fathers have been foes, Two lovely roses met on high, And, grafted in one stock, they grow, Har. My heart believes my love; but still My boding mind presages ill: For luckless ever was our love, Dark as the sky that hung above. While we embraced, we shook with fears, We met with murmurs and with sighs, An unforeseen and fatal hand A demon started in the bower; And my dark day is but begun, What clouds may hang above my head? Hen. O do not wound that gentle breast, Nor sink, with fancied ills opprest; For softness, sweetness, all, thou art, And love is virtue in thy heart. 'That bosom ne'er shall heave again But to the poet's tender strain; And never more these eyes o'erflow Long on the ocean tempest-tost, Har. My father's castle springs to sight; Ye towers that gave me to the light! O hills! O vales! where I have play'd; Ye woods, that wrap me in your shade! O scenes I've often wander'd o'er! O scenes I shall behold no more! I take a long, last, lingering view: Adieu! my native land, adieu! O father, mother, brother dear! Whose griefs my blandishments beguil'd; Whom I shall never more behold! Farewell, my friends, a long farewell, Till time shall toll the funeral knell. * Hen. Thy friends, thy father's house resign; To higher thoughts, and happier life! They rise, the dear domestic hours! At distance grandeur sheds a ray, Connubial love has dearer names, Rise the sweet sympathies of love; Like cherubs new come from the skies, VOL. VI. H |