NOON
.
LYSANDER
.
THE
sun
had
thrown
its
noontide
ray
Amid
the
flowers
,
and
scorch'd
the
plains
,
Which
panted
for
refreshing
rains
;
While
gaudy
flies
their
golden
wings
display
,
And
bees
cull'd
sweets
to
chear
a
wintry
day
:
Each
beam
that
darted
down
Chas'd
lingering
shades
,
Through
the
thick
umbrage
of
the
trees
pervades
,
And
universal
splendour
shed
around
:
The
slippery
grass
,
burnt
brown
with
heat
,
Unkindly
scorch'd
the
traveller's
feet
.
And
now
,
oppress'd
,
While
every
creature
languid
hied
to
rest
,
Amid
the
blaze
LYSANDER
bounds
along
,
Bold
as
a
lion
,
scorch'd
by
many
a
clime
;
Far
off
was
heard
the
echoes
of
his
song
,
Responsive
to
his
clear
and
artless
rhyme
:
He
seeks
no
shade
,
nor
grotto's
cool
retreat
,
But
on
,
amidst
the
furzy
heath
,
he
press'd
;
The
heart's
warm
passions
through
his
pulses
beat
,
And
native
fire
inspires
his
manly
breast
.
He
seeks
the
craggy
shore
which
ocean
laves
,
And
,
seated
on
a
rock
,
surveys
the
swelling
waves
:
The
eminence
th'
horizon's
scope
commands
,
The
plains
surrounding
,
and
the
burning
strands
.
O'er
the
wild
scene
he
threw
a
happy
look
,
Compares
the
present
pleasure
with
the
past
;
Gladly
he
turns
each
page
of
Nature's
book
,
And
prays
the
freedom
of
his
soul
may
last
.
He
roll'd
his
eyes
Across
the
seas
;
Now
glancing
o'er
the
glassy
waves
,
Now
mounting
to
the
skies
,
Th'
immortal
prize
Of
valiant
souls
who
find
deep
watery
graves
.
Thus
as
he
sat
,
by
strong
reflection
bound
,
Up
the
rough
rock
ascends
a
sound
,
Which
piercingly
pervades
his
ears
;
It
seem'd
the
frantic
cry
of
woe
,
Which
struggling
groan'd
,
without
the
aid
of
tears
.
The
sounds
like
lightening
reach'd
his
heart
;
and
flush'd
With
quick
alarm
he
made
no
longer
stay
,
Ardently
down
the
craggy
steep
he
rush'd
,
Rough
heights
he
leap'd
,
impatient
of
delay
,
And
tow'rds
the
sufferer
bent
his
eager
way
;
Till
by
the
sea
he
reach'd
some
rocky
caves
,
Lash'd
by
the
loud-resounding
waves
.
There
a
wild
female
rent
her
golden
hair
,
With
raging
passions
blind
;
Her
sad
young
bosom
bare
,
And
frantic
seem'd
her
stormy
mind
.
Swift
tow'rds
the
sea
she
flies
,
With
direful
cries
;
Driven
on
by
fierce
despair
,
Mid
oozy
waves
to
drown
remaining
sense
of
care
.
Touch'd
by
each
generous
thought
,
By
strong
humanity
impress'd
,
The
damsel
in
his
arms
he
caught
,
And
held
her
,
struggling
,
to
his
breast
.
"
Why
trembles
thus
thy
soul
,
O
wretched
maid
!
"
O
agony
!
too
piercing
agony
!
"
Is
through
thy
miserable
frame
pourtray'd
.
"
O
could
my
breast
relieve
thy
misery
!
"
Just
heaven
!
if
thou
hast
pity
,
ease
her
pain
!
"
Her
heart
will
burst
!
she
faints
within
my
arms
!
-
"
Upon
my
bosom
she
reclines
her
charms
;
"
My
falling
tears
bedew
her
cheeks
in
vain
!
"
He
stretch'd
her
on
the
shore
-
He
fetch'd
cool
water
from
the
seas
,
And
sprinkled
her
all
o'er
,
And
fanning
her
with
leaves
collects
the
breeze
:
Till
on
the
heavens
she
op'd
her
azure
eyes
,
And
,
with
returning
thought
and
grief
,
look'd
up
-
"
Ah
,
wretched
me
!
"
she
cry'd
,
with
bursting
sighs
,
"
I've
plenteous
drank
at
sorrow's
bitter
cup
!
"
To
GOD
I
fly
;
no
help
on
earth
I
find
,
"
And
from
my
soul
would
tear
the
mortal
part
;
"
Such
sad
disorders
fill
the
human
mind
,
"
Such
deep
afflictions
rive
my
guilty
heart
.
"
I
far
in
vice
have
stray'd
;
"
And
,
too
severe
,
"
The
parents
who
ador'd
the
maid
,
"
No
sighs
from
my
repentant
heart
would
hear
:
"
Till
,
raging
in
despair
,
"
I
franticly
resolv'd
to
die
-
"
Rather
than
(
sad
alternative
!
)
to
lie
"
Amid
the
streets
,
and
common
insults
share
.
"
Stung
to
the
heart
,
she
rose
;
Tears
stream'd
from
her
fair
eyes
;
Shame
in
her
cheeks
reviv'd
the
damask
rose
,
And
poignant
sorrow
burst
in
bitter
sighs
:
She
wept
all
silently
:
LYSANDER
scarce
could
speak
,
Though
sometimes
,
"
Cruelty
!
O
cruelty
!
"
Forth
from
his
lips
would
break
.
With
generous
passions
swell'd
his
noble
breast
;
Passions
too
strong
and
deep
to
be
express'd
;
Pity
and
rage
with
equal
strivings
beat
,
And
sympathy
,
wrought
high
by
nat'ral
heat
:
"
By
my
true
soul
!
"
at
length
he
cried
,
"
As
Nature's
my
director
and
my
guide
,
"
My
heart
,
chain'd
by
thy
woe
,
"
Shall
neither
joy
nor
comfort
know
,
"
Till
I've
reveng'd
thy
wrongs
,
and
giv'n
thee
ease
,
"
And
,
by
my
love
,
have
set
thy
troubled
soul
at
peace
.
"
O!
let
not
misery
o'erwhelm
thy
heart
,
"
Nor
the
fair
path
of
life
and
joy
decline
;
"
Vengeance
shall
find
the
authors
of
thy
smart
-
"
O!
fearless
rest
thy
drooping
soul
on
mine
,
"
Which
,
like
the
oak
,
round
which
the
ivy
strays
,
"
With
blessings
yet
may
store
thy
future
days
.
"
The
damsel's
sorrow
,
like
a
furious
storm
,
Rack'd
her
celestial
system
with
its
rage
;
Her
desperate
passions
deadly
warfare
wage
,
And
the
mild
radiance
of
her
charms
deform
.
At
length
the
vivid
fires
rush'd
to
her
heart
,
Tingled
in
ev'ry
vein
,
blaz'd
from
her
eyes
,
While
sudden
joys
before
her
spirits
rise
,
And
o'er
her
cheeks
warm
transient
colours
dart
:
Fir'd
by
his
zeal
,
Extatic
feelings
tinge
her
frame
;
Whose
glow
the
passions
of
her
breast
reveal
Bright
blossom
of
a
future
ripening
flame
!