The
FALL
of
LUCIA
.
LUCIA
was
fair
and
bright
as
rising
Day
,
Sweet
as
Arabia
,
or
the
Buds
of
May
;
Fresh
as
the
Winds
that
sweep
the
dewy
Hills
,
Or
Beds
of
Roses
wash'd
by
healthy
Rills
:
Whose
Soul
was
softer
than
a
trembling
Dove
,
Nor
knew
a
Failing
till
she
learn'd
to
love
.
Nor
Fraud
nor
Scandal
to
her
Lips
were
known
,
And
thought
each
Bosom
guiltless
as
her
own
.
Thus
only
arm'd
with
Innocence
and
Smiles
,
She
fell
the
Victim
of
a
Tyrant's
Wiles
.
So
lost
from
Shepherd
and
its
mourning
Dam
,
Through
some
lone
Desart
roves
a
stragg'ling
Lamb
;
No
Danger
fears
,
but
as
he
idly
strays
Round
ev'ry
Bush
the
heedless
Wanton
plays
;
Till
raging
Wolves
the
beauteous
Toy
surround
,
Or
foaming
Tigers
rend
the
mossy
Ground
:
Then
from
his
Heart
the
guiltless
Purple
flows
,
A
grateful
Morsel
to
his
hungry
Foes
:
Thus
wrap'd
in
Sorrows
wretched
Lucia
lies
,
Whose
Sighs
still
answer
to
her
streaming
Eyes
.
And
Damon
still
—
Ah
!
faithless
Damon
cries
,
No
more
those
Lips
like
dewy
Roses
glow
;
Her
weary
Lids
no
peaceful
Slumbers
know
:
But
left
to
strike
her
pensive
Breast
in
vain
,
And
curse
the
Author
of
her
lasting
Pain
.
Her
Soul
of
Ease
has
took
its
long
Adieu
:
Hear
this
,
ye
Nymphs
;
but
hear
and
tremble
too
,
Ye
Fair
that
lanch
in
Pleasure's
tempting
Sea
,
Though
Fortune
crowns
you
with
a
calmer
Day
,
And
Joy's
soft
Gale
salutes
your
nimble
Oar
:
Where
Lucia's
Fame
was
shipwreck'd
on
the
Shore
,
Yet
let
Reflexion
mark
your
gliding
Days
,
Nor
drink
too
deeply
in
the
Draught
of
Praise
:
For
Flatt'ry
is
—
"
So
say
the
learned
Schools
,
"
The
Bane
of
Virgins
and
the
Bait
of
Fools
.
"
How
happy
she
whose
purer
Spirit
knows
,
No
Thought
less
harmless
than
a
Saint's
Repose
,
Whose
guiltless
Charms
pursue
no
greater
End
,
But
to
rejoice
a
Parent
or
a
Friend
:
Whose
Care
it
is
her
Passions
to
control
,
And
keep
the
Steerage
of
a
quiet
Soul
:
Then
this
shall
grace
her
monumental
Page
,
"
In
Youth
admir'd
,
and
belov'd
in
Age
.
"