[Nereides:] Eclogue XI. Eune. Eune a wanton Nymph, and Triton Swain Agreed a while to leave the boundless Main; And near the Shore unseen they chose to kiss, Where no Sea-Rival might disturb the Bliss. There, all that Love could yield, the Youth enjoy'd; 'Till with fierce Joys, and eager Transports cloy'd She look'd, and sigh'd; his Lips she gently prest; Then murmuring fell, and slept upon his Breast; While pleasing Dreams past Scenes of Love repeat, And cooling Breezes fan the Summer's Heat. Thus as she lay entranc'd, the wanton Air Play'd on her Mouth, and sported with her Hair; The Boy less kind, thus as she sleeping lay, Rose unperceiv'd, and stole unheard away. (For Men once satiate, when the Rage is o'er, Will curse that Beauty, which they now adore.) The ebbing Tide had left the sandy Plain, When Eune wak'd, and look'd, but look'd in vain. Sad Thoughts, and black Despair pierc'd thro' her Soul, With Tears she saw the distant Billows rowl. She found her self forsaken, and alone, The Triton absent, and the Water gone. Grievous she moan'd her Fate, and weeping said, Is thus my Love, my easy Love betray'd? Such Scorn we may expect, nay we deserve, When wanton Souls from steddy Vertue swerve. But ah! inconstant Melvin, and ingrate, When Love was ceas'd, you might have shown your Hate; You might have kill'd me with those faithless Hands, Rather than leave me thus on parching Sands. Well may you follow the inconstant Sea, The Waves are false, and you are false as they. By both betray'd, with gnawing Hunger pin'd, I must unpity'd die, and — die for being kind. Farewell, ye Sister-Nymphs, believe no more, Nor trust the Youth, nor trust the hated Shore. Farewell ye distant Waves; you I forgive, Well might you fickle prove, and Eune leave, When he, who lov'd so much, yet cou'd deceive. Farewell ye sportive Fish, and beauteous Shells, And shining Pearls, that grow in rocky Cells, Whose polish'd Orbs on Twigs of Coral strung Around my Neck the perjur'd Melvin hung. Farewell, ye Songs, that once were thought to please, My Voice shall calm no more the list'ning Seas. Unhappy Fate of the soft yeilding Maid! Whoever loves, is sure to be betray'd. Thus the despairing Nymph complain'd alone, 'Till faint with Grief, and tir'd with piteous Moan, When kinder Sleep again with calm Surprize Sooth'd all her Pain, and clos'd her willing Eyes, And now returning Waves by slow degrees Move on the Beach, and stretch the widen'd Seas. Melvin approaches with the rising Tide, And in his Arms enfolds his sleeping Bride. Eune a wake, with Wonder view'd around; The Sea was near, and the lost Lover found. Ah! do I now, or did I dream before, Cries the fond Nymph, when on the barren Shore Left by the Sea, and you so long I mourn'd; How were you gone, or whence are you return'd? Vain Dreams (reply'd the wily Youth) deceive Your wand'ring Thoughts, and false Impressions leave. He said, and kist the Nymph; she kist again: He prest her close, and she forgot her Pain.