poetry. 



M« 



Reject th' exhaustlefs riches of ?eru. 



Its boundlefs wealth, my Clito, all for you . 



One lonely hour, when silence reign'd around, 

 And every eye was clos'd in sleep profound : 

 When solemn midnight, held her sable reign, 

 Morpheus, the God of dreams, poisefs'd my brain. 

 Methought I saw thee on a rugged coast, 

 With grief transported for thy Deim, lost, 

 Adown thy cheeks the briny torrents flow. 

 And heard thy groans exprefsive of thy woe : 

 Methought, a savage Indian aim'd his dart 

 At thy defencelefs— agonising heart'. 

 Then, quick inventive fancy chang'd the scene. 

 And plac'd thee amid fields of blooming green ; 

 Plac'd thee my Clito, near an woodbine grove. 

 With a fair female, whom thou call'dst thy love! 

 There I beheld thee all absorb'd in blifs. 

 Vow lasting faith and pledge the mutual kifs, 

 Whilst my sad soul, which nothing could afsuage, 

 Olpeijur'd low, exclaim'd with frantic roge ; 

 Till with distrefs I woke at morning light. 

 And found 'twas all a vision of the night. 

 Oh, Clito, hard's my wretched lot to prove, 

 , Each varied pain that absence yields to love '. 

 But thee I'll ne'er distrust, thou matchlefs youth. 

 Whose soul is goodnefs, and v/hose words are truth '. 

 Tho' cruel fate hath fix'd thy haplefs doom, 

 Far from thy love, on foreign fliores to roam ; 

 The', from my arms, my Clito, thou art hurl d, 

 A mourning exile, to a distant world '. i 

 What, tho' soft pleasure spread? her silken chains. 

 And wealth and grandeur thrive on eastern plains ? 

 What, tho' ten thousand nymphs around thee dwell, 

 Whose blooming charms, all others do excell ? 

 Yet, to thy Delia, thou wilt true remain. 

 And wealth, and beauty tempt thy faith in vain '. 



Yes, dearest Clito, let us not despair. 

 But, constant, Heav'n invoke with earnest pray'r. 

 Then, may the powers, in pity to our smart, 

 Intenerate thy angry father's heart. 

 Propitious Heav'n, may yet appoint a day. 

 When all our doubts, and cares, Ihall flee away, 

 When, thou ftialt in a father's smiles be blest, 

 And claspt again with ardor to his breast ; 

 When, (oh, blest thought '.) on Britain's happy fhore, 

 We, once again fliall meet— to part no more ; 



