THE SONG.

I.

TIME! fly with greater speed away,

Add feathers to thy wings,

Till thy hafte in flying brings

That wifht-for, and expected day..

II.

Comfort's fun we then fhall fee,.

Though at firft it darken'd be

With dangers; yet, those clouds but gone,

Our day will put his luftre on.

III.

Then, though death's fad night appear,

And we in lonely silence rest ;

Our ravish'd fouls no more fhall fear,

But with lafting day be bleft.

IV.

And then no friends can part us more,
Nor no new death extend its power;
Thus there's nothing can diffever
Hearts which love hath join'd together.

FEAR of being feen, Philetus homeward drove,
But ere they part the willingly doth give
(As faithful pledges of her conftant love)
Many a foft kifs; then they each other leave,
Rapt up, with fecret joy that they have found
A way to heal the torment of their wound.

VOL. I.

E

But,

But, ere the fun through many days had run,
Conftantia's charming beauty had o'ercome
Guifardo's heart, and scorn'd affection won ;
Her eyes foon conquer'd all they shone upon,
Shot through his wounded heart such hot defire,
As nothing but her love could quench the fire.
In roofs which gold and Parian ftone adorn
(Proud as the owner's mind) he did abound;
In fields fo fertile for their yearly corn,

As might contend with scorch'd Calabria's ground;
But in his foul, that fhould contain the ftore
Of fureft riches, he was base and poor.

Him was Conftantia urg'd continually,

By' her friends, to love: fometimes they did intreat
With gentle fpeeches and mild courtesy;
Which when they see despis'd by her they threat.

But love too deep was feated in her heart,
To be worn-out with thought of any smart.
Soon did her father to the woods repair,
To feek for fport, and hunt the started game;
Guifardo and Philocrates were there,
With many friends too tedious here to name :
With them Conftantia went, but not to find
The bear or wolf, but Love all mild and kind.
Being enter'd in the pathless woods, while they
Pursue their game, Philetus, who was late
Hid in a thicket, carries straight away

His love, and haftens his own hafty fate;
That came too soon upon him; and his fun
quite eclips'd before it fully fhone.

3

Conflantia

Conftantia mifs'd, the hunters in amaze
Take each a several course, and by curst fate
Guifardo runs, with a love-carried pace,

Tow'rds them, who little knew their woeful state:
Philetus, like bold Icarus, foaring high
To honours, found the depth of mifery.

For when Guifardo fees his rival there,
Swelling with envious rage, he comes behind
Philetus, who fuch fortune did not fear,
And with his fword a way to 's heart does find.
But, ere his fpirits were poffeft of death,
In these few words he spent his latest breath:

O fee, Conftantia! my short race is run;
See how my blood the thirsty ground doth dye;
"But live thou happier than thy love hath done,
-"And when I 'm dead, think fometime upon me!

"More my fhort time permits me not to tell,
"For now death feizeth me; my dear, farewell
As foon as he had spoke thefe words, life fled
From his pierc'd body, whilft Constantia, she
Kiffes his cheeks, that lose their lively red,
and now each eye,

And become pale and wan ;
Which was fo bright, is like, when life was done,
A flar that 's fall'n, or an eclipfed fun.

Thither Philocrates was driven by fate,
And faw his friend lie bleeding on the earth;
Near his pale corpfe his weeping fifter fate,

Her eyes fhed tears, her heart to fighs gave birth.
Philocrates, when he faw this, did cry,

"Friend, I 'll revenge, or bear thee company!

Juft Jove hath fent me to revenge this fate;
"Nay, stay, Guisardo, think not Heaven in jest:
"'Tis vain to hope flight can secure thy state.”
Then thruft his sword into the villain's breaft.
"Here" said Philocrates, "thy life I send
"A facrifice, t' appease my slaughter'd friend.”
But, as he fell, "Take this reward," faid he,
"For thy new victory." With that he flung
His darted rapier at his enemy,

Which hit his head, and in his brain-pan hung.
With that he falls, but, lifting up his eyes,
"Farewell, Conftantia!" that word said, he dies.
What fhall fhe do? She to her brother runs,
His cold and lifeless body does embrace;
She calls to him, that cannot hear her moans,
And with her kiffes warms his clammy face.

"My dear Philocrates !" fhe, weeping, cries,
"Speak to thy fifter!" but no voice replies.

Then running to her Love, with many a tear,
Thus her mind's fervent paffion fhe expreft;
"O ftay, blefs'd foul, ftay but a little here,
"And take me with you to a lasting rest.

"Then to Elyfium's mansions both shall fly,
"Be married there, and never more to die."

But, feeing them both dead, the cry'd, “Ah me!
“Ah, my Philetus! for thy fake will I
"Make up a full and perfect tragedy :

"Since 'twas for me, dear Love, that thou didst die,
"I'll follow thee, and not thy lofs deplore ;
"These eyes, that saw thee kill'd, shall see no more.”

"It fhall not fure be faid that thou didst die,
"And thy Conftantia live when thou wast slain :
“No, no, dear foul ! I will not stay from thee
"That will reflect upon my valued fame."

Then piercing her fad breast, "I come!" she cries,
And death for ever clos'd her weeping eyes.

Her foul being fled to its eternal reft,
Her father comes, and, feeing this, he falls
To th' earth, with grief too great to be expreft:
Whose doleful words my tir'd Mufe me calls
T'o'erpafs; which I moft gladly do, for fear
That I should toil too much the reader's ear.