But if you force me to avow my shame,
Behold it prefac'd with Monimia's name.
Loft to the world, abandon'd and forlorn,
Expos'd to infamy, reproach, and scorn,
To mirth and comfort loft, and all for you,
Yet loft, perhaps, to your remembrance too,
How hard my lot! what refuge can I try,
Weary of life, and yet afraid to die!
Of hope, the wretch's last resort, bereft,
By friends, by kindred, by my lover, left.
Oh! frail dependence of confiding fools!
On lovers oaths, or friendship's facred rules,
How weak in modern hearts, too late I find,
Monimia's fall'n, and Philocles unkind!
To these reflections, each flow wearing day,
And each revolving night a conftant prey,
Think what I fuffer, nor ungentle hear
What madness dictates in my fond despair;
Grudge not this fhort relief, (too fast it flies)
Nor chide that weakness I myself defpife.
One moment fure may be at least her due,
Who facrific'd her all of life for you.
Without a frown this farewel then receive,
For 'tis the laft my hapless love shall give;
Nor this I would, if reafon could command,
But what restriction reins a lover's hand?
Nor prudence, fhame, nor pride, nor int'reft fways,
The hand implicitly the heart obeys :
Too well this maxim has my conduct shewn,
Too well that conduct to the world is known.
Oft have I writ, and often to the flame
Condemn'd this after-witness of my shame;
Oft in my cooler recollected thought,
Thy beauties, and my fondness half forgot,
(How short those intervals for reason's aid !)
Thus to myself in anguish have I faid.
Thy vain remonftrance, foolish maid, give o'er,
Who act the wrong, can ne'er that wrong deplore.
Then fanguine hopes again delufive reign,
I form'd thee melting, as I tell my pain.
If not of rock thy flinty heart is made,
Nor tygers nurs'd thee in the defart fhade,
Let me at least thy cold compaffion prove,
That flender fuftenance of greedy love:
Though no return my warmer wishes find,
Be to the wretch, though not the mistress, kind;
Nor whilft I court my melancholy state,
Forget 'twas love, and thee, that wrought my fate.
Without reftraint habituate to range
The paths of pleasure; can I bear this change?
Doom'd from the world unwilling to retire,
In bloom of life, and warm with young defire,
In lieu of roofs with regal fplendor gay,
Condemn'd in diftant wilds to drag the day;
Where beasts of prey maintain their savage court,
Or human brutes (the worst of brutes) refort.
Yes, yes, the change I could unfighing fee,
For none I mourn, but what I find in thee,
There center all my woes, thy heart eftrang'd,
I weep my lover, not my fortune, chang'd;
Blefs'd with thy prefence, I could all forget,
Nor gilded palaces in huts regret,
But exil'd thence, fuperfluous is the rest,
Each place the fame, my hell is in
To pleasure dead, and living but to pain,
My only fenfe to fuffer, and complain.
As all my wrongs distressful I repeat,
Say, can thy pulfe with equal cadence beat?
Can't thou know peace? is confcience mute within?
That upright delegate for fecret fin;
Is nature fo extinguish'd in thy heart,
That not one spark remains to take my part?
Not one repentant throb, one grateful figh?
Thy breast unruffled, and unwet thy eye?
Thou cool betrayer, temperate in ill!
Thou nor remorse, nor thought humane can'st feel :
Nature has form'd thee of the rougher kind,
And education more debas'd thy mind,
Born in an age when guilt and fraud prevail,
When Juftice fleeps, and Int'reft holds the scale;
Thy loose companions a licentious crew,
Moft to each other, all to us untrue,
Whom chance, or habit mix, but rarely choice,
Nor leagu'd in friendship, but in social vice,
Who indigent of honour, or of shame,
Glory in crimes which others blush to name;
By right or wrong difdaining to be mov'd,
Unprincipled, unloving, and unlov'd.
The fair who trufts their prostituted vows,
If not their falfhood, ftill their boasts expose;
Nor knows the wifeft to elude the harm,
Ev'n fhe whofe prudence fhuns the tinfel charm
They know to flander, though they fail to warm:
They make her languish in fictitious flame,
Affix fome fpecious flander on her name,
And baffled by her virtue, triumph o'er her fame.
These are the leaders of thy blinded youth,
These vile feducers laugh'd thee out of truth;
Whofe fcurril jefts all folemn ties profane,
Or Friendship's band, or Hymen's facred chain;
Morality as weakness they upbraid,
Nor ev'n revere Religion's hallow'd head;
Alike they spurn divine and human laws,
And treat the honeft like the chriftian cause.
Curfe on that tongue whofe vile pernicious art
Delights the ear but to corrupt the heart,
That takes advantage of the chearful hour,
When weaken'd Virtue bends to Nature's pow'r,
And would the goodness of the foul efface,
To fubftitute difhonour in her place.
With fuch you lose the day in falfe delights,
In lewd debauch you revel out the nights,
(O fatal commerce to Monimia's peace!)
Their arguments convince because they please;
Whilst sophistry for reason they admit,
And wander dazzled by the glare of wit,
Wit that on ill a fpecious luftre throws,
And in falfe colours every object fhows,
That gilds the wrong, depreciating the right,
And hurts the judgment, while it feasts the fight;
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