LAURA
:
OR
,
THE
COMPLAINT
.
AN
ELEGY
.
BY
JAMES
MARRIOTT
,
L.
L.
D.
YE
groves
,
with
venerable
moss
array'd
,
That
o'er
yon
caverns
stretch
your
pendent
shade
,
Where
sacred
Silence
lulls
the
rural
vale
,
And
Love
in
whispers
tells
his
tender
tale
,
Ye
lonely
rocks
,
ye
streams
that
ever
flow
,
Still
as
my
tears
,
and
constant
as
my
woe
,
To
you
behold
the
wretched
Laura
flies
,
And
haunts
those
seats
from
whence
her
sorrows
rise
;
Where
,
lost
to
love
,
how
often
has
she
stray'd
?
When
the
fond
lover
led
his
blushing
maid
,
When
his
soft
lips
,
too
eloquent
his
art
,
Pour'd
the
warm
wish
,
and
breath'd
out
all
his
heart
.
Ah
once
lov'd
seats
,
your
pleasing
scenes
are
o'er
,
Nor
you
can
charm
,
since
he
can
love
no
more
;
Tho'
smile
your
lawns
with
vernal
glories
crown'd
,
In
vain
gay
Nature
paints
th'
enamel'd
ground
;
While
through
your
solitary
paths
I
rove
,
A
prey
to
grief
,
to
sickness
,
and
to
love
.
Tho'
gentle
Zephyrs
fan
the
bending
bowers
,
Tho'
breathes
the
incense
of
your
opening
flowers
,
Nor
opening
flowers
,
nor
gentle
Zephyrs
charm
,
Nor
beauteous
scenes
a
grief
like
mine
disarm
;
Fade
every
flower
,
and
languish
every
sense
,
Ye
have
no
sweets
for
fallen
innocence
.
Torn
by
remorse
,
sad
victim
of
Despair
,
Where
shall
I
turn
?
or
where
address
my
prayer
?
Far
as
the
morn
its
early
beam
displays
,
Or
where
the
star
of
evening
darts
its
rays
;
Far
as
wide
earth
is
stretch'd
,
or
oceans
roll
,
Where
blow
the
winds
,
or
heaven
invests
the
pole
,
In
vain
my
fluttering
soul
would
wing
its
way
;
Stern
Care
pursues
,
where'er
the
wretched
stray
.
Sost
God
of
Sleep
,
whose
ever-peaceful
reign
Lulls
earth
,
and
heaven
,
and
all
the
extended
main
,
Powerful
to
give
the
labouring
heart
to
rest
,
To
wipe
the
tear
,
and
heal
the
wounded
breast
,
Say
,
by
what
crime
offended
,
slies
from
me
,
Invok'd
,
thy
unpropitious
Deity
?
Or
dooms
,
on
racks
of
wildest
Fancy
torn
,
In
dreams
my
agonizing
soul
to
mourn
?
Why
am
I
oft
on
angry
billows
tost
,
Now
in
some
wide
and
dreary
desart
lost
?
Why
yet
in
life
infernal
tortures
feel
,
Bound
by
fierce
demons
to
some
rapid
wheel
?
Now
seem
to
climb
,
while
hills
on
hills
arise
,
In
vain
:
or
fall
in
tempests
from
the
skies
,
Tread
burning
plains
,
or
swim
in
seas
of
fire
,
Just
reach
the
shore
,
then
see
the
shore
retire
?
As
oft
,
dear
youth
!
thy
pleasing
form
appears
;
I
stretch
my
arms
,
and
wake
dissolv'd
in
tears
;
Yet
waking
Fancy
all
that
loss
supplies
,
And
still
I
view
thee
with
a
lover's
eyes
;
Entranc'd
,
in
thought
,
o'er
all
thy
charms
I
gaze
,
See
thy
bright
eyes
diffuse
their
softest
rays
,
Hang
on
thy
hand
,
and
on
thy
breast
reclin'd
,
Play
with
thy
locks
that
waver
with
the
wind
,
Joy
in
thy
joy
,
or
in
thy
sorrows
join
,
And
on
thy
lips
my
spirit
mix
with
thine
.
Now
o'er
dark
wilds
,
or
rugged
rocks
we
stray
,
Love
lights
the
gloom
,
and
smooths
the
dreary
way
;
Now
on
soft
banks
our
weary
limbs
repose
,
Where
every
flower
of
vernal
beauty
glows
;
But
light
as
air
each
pleasing
vision
flew
,
Swift
as
the
fun
dispels
the
morning
dew
;
While
with
the
day
returns
the
sense
of
woe
,
We
wake
more
wretched
when
the
cheat
we
know
.
Imagination
!
mistress
of
the
soul
,
What
powers
unseen
the
active
mind
controul
?
And
fill
the
waking
thought
,
or
busy
sleep
?
When
not
a
breeze
disturbs
the
tranquil
deep
,
Nor
lofty
pines
through
all
the
forest
move
,
Why
stir
the
motions
of
resistless
love
?
Urg'd
by
the
golden
morn
,
the
night
recedes
,
And
year
to
year
in
changeful
course
succeeds
;
Nor
night
,
nor
morn
,
nor
years
to
me
restore
The
peace
which
Laura's
heart
possess'd
before
;
Involv'd
in
clouds
one
darksome
scene
I
view
;
Bleed
the
same
wounds
,
and
all
my
pains
renew
.
O
boast
of
Laura's
long-forgotten
praise
!
Past
are
the
triumphs
of
my
happier
days
,
When
plac'd
supreme
on
Beauty's
radiant
throne
,
I
saw
with
conscious
pride
each
heart
my
own
;
Where'er
I
turn'd
,
a
thousand
nymphs
admir'd
;
Whene'er
I
smil'd
,
a
thousand
swains
expir'd
:
I
spoke
,
'twas
music
dwelt
upon
my
tongue
;
I
mov'd
a
goddess
,
and
an
angel
sung
.
My
careless
steps
in
joys
were
taught
to
rove
;
Each
voice
was
flattery
,
and
each
look
was
love
;
But
Beauty's
power
,
too
mighty
long
to
last
,
Fled
on
the
wings
of
rapid
Time
is
past
.
As
some
proud
vessel
to
the
prosperous
gale
Her
streamer
waves
,
and
spreads
the
silken
sail
,
While
silver
oars
to
flutes
soft
breathing
sweep
With
measur'd
strokes
the
scarcely
heaving
deep
,
But
soon
tempestuous
clouds
the
scene
deform
,
And
the
loud
surge
remurmurs
to
the
storm
;
Thus
big
with
hope
,
from
dark
suspicion
free
,
I
sail'd
with
transport
on
Life's
summer
sea
;
The
gay
attendants
of
my
happy
state
,
The
Smiles
,
the
Graces
round
were
seen
to
wait
,
And
all
the
moments
,
as
they
swiftly
flew
,
Shower'd
down
soft
joys
,
and
pleasures
ever
new
.
How
chang'd
this
fleeting
image
of
a
day
?
How
sets
in
awful
gloom
the
evening
ray
?
While
,
fixt
on
earth
her
eye
in
sad
suspence
,
Pours
the
deep
sigh
incessant
Penitence
.
If
youthful
charms
decay
with
age
or
pain
,
Beauty
,
thy
crouded
worshippers
how
vain
!
Why
then
such
crowds
of
incense
round
ascend
?
Why
prostrate
monarchs
at
thy
altars
bend
?
Why
earth's
and
ocean's
mighty
bounds
explore
At
once
to
win
thee
,
and
increase
thy
power
?
Let
sad
example
Reason's
dictates
aid
;
Here
see
what
ruin
Grief
and
Love
have
made
;
Even
Love
,
who
lives
by
Beauty's
smiles
carest
,
Basks
in
her
eyes
,
and
wantons
on
her
breast
,
With
cruel
force
the
fatal
shaft
employs
,
And
soonest
what
he
most
adores
destroys
.
How
cold
I
feel
Life's
idle
current
flow
,
Where
once
the
dancing
spirits
lov'd
to
glow
!
No
more
these
eyes
with
youthful
rapture
shine
,
Nor
cheeks
soft
blushing
speak
a
warmth
divine
;
Graceful
no
more
amid
the
festive
dance
My
steps
with
easy
dignity
advance
,
And
all
the
glossy
locks
,
whose
ringlets
spread
,
O'er
my
fair
neck
,
the
honours
of
my
head
,
Cease
the
neat
labours
of
my
hand
to
know
;
Ill
suits
the
care
of
elegance
with
woe
!
Why
did
not
Nature
,
when
she
gave
to
charm
,
With
unrelenting
pride
my
bosom
arm
?
Why
was
my
soul
its
tender
pity
taught
,
Each
soft
affection
,
and
each
generous
thought
?
Hence
spring
my
sorrows
,
hence
with
sighs
I
prove
How
feeble
woman
,
and
how
fierce
is
love
.
In
unavailing
streams
my
tears
are
shed
;
Sad
Laura's
bliss
is
with
Lorenzo
fled
.
For
thee
,
false
youth
,
was
every
joy
resign'd
,
Young
health
,
sweet
peace
,
and
innocence
of
mind
;
Are
these
the
constant
vows
thy
tongue
profest
,
When
first
thy
arms
my
yielding
beauties
prest
?
Thus
did
thy
kiss
dispel
my
empty
fears
,
Or
winning
voice
delight
my
raptur'd
ears
;
Thus
swore
thy
lips
,
by
ocean
,
earth
,
and
sky
;
By
hell's
dread
powers
,
and
heaven's
all-piercing
eye
?
Yawns
not
the
grave
for
thee
?
Why
sleeps
the
storm
To
blast
thy
limbs
,
and
rend
thy
perjur'd
form
?
Unmov'd
,
O
faithless
,
canst
thou
hear
my
pain
,
Like
the
proud
rocks
which
brave
th'
unwearied
main
?
Sooner
the
ship-wreck'd
pilot
shall
appease
With
sighs
the
howling
winds
,
with
tears
the
seas
,
Than
Laura's
prayers
thy
heart
unfeeling
move
,
O
lost
to
fame
,
to
honour
,
and
to
love
.
Nurst
in
dark
caverns
on
some
mountain
wild
To
cruel
manhood
grew
the
daring
child
,
No
female
breast
supplied
thy
infant
food
,
But
tygers
growling
o'er
their
savage
brood
.
Curs'd
be
that
fatal
hour
thy
charms
were
seen
,
While
yet
this
mind
was
guiltless
,
and
serene
.
With
thee
,
false
man
,
I
urg'd
my
hasty
flight
,
And
dar'd
the
horrors
of
tempestuous
night
,
Nor
fear'd
with
thee
through
plains
unknown
to
rove
,
Deaf
to
the
dictates
of
paternal
love
.
In
vain
for
me
a
parent's
tears
were
shed
,
And
to
the
grave
descends
his
hoary
head
.
When
at
my
feet
entranc'd
my
lover
lay
,
And
pour'd
in
tender
sighs
his
soul
away
,
Fond
,
foolish
heart
!
to
think
the
tale
divine
;
Why
started
not
my
hands
when
prest
in
thine
?
Too
well
Remembrance
paints
the
fatal
hour
When
Love
,
great
conqueror
,
summon'd
all
his
power
;
When
bolder
grown
,
your
glances
flash'd
with
fire
,
And
your
pale
lips
all
trembled
with
desire
;
Back
to
my
heart
my
blood
tumultuous
flew
,
From
every
pore
distill'd
the
chilling
dew
,
When
Shame
presaging
spoke
each
future
pain
,
And
struggling
Virtue
arm'd
my
soul
in
vain
.
But
O
let
silence
all
my
weakness
veil
,
And
burning
blushes
only
tell
the
tale
.
Ah
!
faithless
man
!
and
thou
more
wretched
maid
,
To
guilt
,
and
grief
,
and
misery
betray'd
!
Far
flies
thy
lover
:
to
some
distant
plain
Now
cleaves
his
bounding
bark
the
peaceful
main
;
Avenging
heaven
,
that
heard
the
vows
he
swore
,
Bid
howl
the
blackening
storm
,
and
thunder
roar
.
'Till
waves
on
waves
in
tumbling
mountains
roll
,
Now
sink
to
hell
,
and
now
ascend
the
pole
;
Then
on
some
plank
o'er
foaming
billows
borne
,
Trembling
,
his
perjur'd
faith
the
wretch
shall
mourn
,
But
mourn
in
vain
:
his
vigorous
arm
shall
fail
,
Guilt
sink
him
down
,
and
angry
heaven
prevail
;
No
friendly
hand
to
earth
his
limbs
convey
,
But
dogs
and
vultures
tear
the
bloated
prey
.
Yet
,
ah
!
fond
heart
!
avert
,
kind
heaven
,
the
stroke
,
My
heart
denies
what
trembling
lips
have
spoke
.
The
varying
accents
real
nature
prove
,
And
only
shew
how
wild
a
thing
is
love
.
Go
,
much
lov'd
youth
,
with
every
blessing
crown'd
,
And
Laura's
wishes
ever
guard
thee
round
.
Me
to
the
silent
shades
and
sad
retreat
,
Where
love's
expiring
flames
forget
their
heat
,
Death
wooes
all-powerful
:
ere
he
parts
the
clew
,
Once
more
thy
Laura
bids
her
love
adieu
:
Bids
health
and
affluence
every
bliss
afford
,
Bids
thee
be
lov'd
,
be
happy
,
and
ador'd
;
In
ease
,
in
mirth
,
glide
each
glad
hour
away
;
No
pain
to
spot
thy
Fortune's
cloudless
day
;
Nor
sigh
to
swell
,
no
tear
to
flow
for
me
:
O
grant
,
heaven
,
all
;
but
grant
thee
constancy
.
Yet
from
my
hand
this
last
address
receive
,
This
last
address
is
all
that
hand
can
give
.
In
vain
thy
bark
with
spreading
canvas
flies
,
If
these
sad
lines
shall
meet
thy
conscious
eyes
,
And
,
taught
with
winning
eloquence
to
move
,
The
winds
and
waters
waft
the
voice
of
love
;
That
voice
,
O
grant
what
dying
lips
implore
,
Asks
but
one
tear
from
thee
;
and
asks
no
more
.
Then
world
,
farewel
;
farewel
life's
fond
desires
,
False
flattering
hopes
,
and
love's
tormenting
fires
.
Already
,
Death
,
before
my
closing
eyes
Thy
airy
forms
and
glimmering
shades
arise
.
Hark
!
hear
I
not
for
me
yon'
passing
bell
Toll
forth
,
with
frequent
pause
,
its
sullen
knell
?
Waits
not
for
me
yon'
sexton
on
his
spade
,
Blythe
whistling
o'er
the
grave
his
toil
has
made
?
Say
,
why
in
lengthened
pomp
yon'
sable
train
,
With
measur'd
steps
,
slow
,
stalk
along
the
plain
?
Say
,
why
yon'
hearse
with
fading
flowers
is
crown'd
,
And
midnight
gales
the
deep-mouth'd
dirge
resound
?
Hail
,
sister
worms
,
and
thou
my
kindred
dust
,
Secure
to
you
my
weary
limbs
I
trust
.
Dim
burns
life's
lamp
;
O
Death
,
thy
work
compleat
,
And
give
my
soul
to
gain
her
last
retreat
.
Such
as
before
the
birth
of
Nature
sway'd
,
Ere
springing
light
the
first
great
word
obey'd
,
Let
silence
reign
—
come
,
Fate
,
exert
thy
might
;
And
darkness
wrap
me
in
eternal
night
.