LOVE ELEGY. BY THE SAME. AH, cruel Delia! must I still remain In anxious doubt? will nought your pity move? Must I still languish? must I still complain? Still are you deaf to every plea of love? A stranger to the odious wiles of art, The coxcomb's chatter, and the beau's grimace, I spoke the honest dictates of my heart, Nor mask'd deceit beneath the lover's face: I never boasted heaps of treasur'd gold, No dirty acres ever were my theme, The sordid wretch beneath contempt I hold, Who dares with love such worthless trifles name. And let the fair, whom glittering dust delights, In lieu of jointure, barter bliss and peace; Insipid pleasures waste her tedious nights, And jealous wranglings wear away her days. Not such the hours, I hop'd, with you to share; Not thus to tread the vulgar path of life; Such base, such brutal joys can ne'er endear, Can ne'er insure the fond, the tender wife. 'Tis then, O then, we feel th' inraptur'd bliss, When lost in soft confusion, sweetly coy, Each virgin charm glows with the melting kiss, And Nature faints beneath th' excess of joy. Tho' this would cloy, if pleasures more refin'd Forebore their influence o'er the breast to shed; Virtue alone secures the generous mind; She with fresh transport crowns the bridal bed. If words can tell, let those whose hearts unite In virtuous love, absolv'd from all controul, Confess the pleasure, the sublime delight, Th' extatic sense of mingling soul with soul.