THE ENGLISH GARDEN. 27 



Than is her marble femblance. One ftiff hand 480 



Lies leaden on her breaft ; the other rais'd 



To heav'n, and half-way clench'd ; ftedfafl her eyes, 



Yet viewlefs ; and her lips, which op'd to fhriek, 



Can neither fhriek nor clofe : So might me Hand 



For ever : He, whofe fight caus'd the dread change, 485 



Tho' now he clafps her in his anxious arms, 



Fails to unbend one fmew of her frame; 



'Tis ice; 'tis fleel. But fee, ALCANDER wakes; 



And waking, as by magic fympathy, 



NERINA whifpers, " All is well, my friend; 490 



" 'Twas but a viiion ; I may yet revive 



" But ftill his arm fupports me; aid him, friend, 



" And bear me fwiftly to my woodbine bower; 



*' For there indeed I wifh to breathe my laft." 



So faying, her cold cheek, and parched brow, 495 



Turn'd to a livid palenefs ; her dim eyes 

 Sunk in their fockets ; fharp contraction preft 

 Her temples, ears, and noflrils : figns well known 



E 2 Ta 



