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SONG, BY MOORE.
When he who adores thee has left but the name
Of his fault and his sorrows behind, Oh say, wilt thou weep, when they darken the fame
Of a life that for thee was resign'd ?
Yes, weep; and however my foes may condemn,
Thy tears shall efface the decree :
I have been but too faithful to thee.
With thee were the dreams of my earliest love;
Every thought of my reason was thine :
Thy name shall be mingled with mine.
Oh, blest are the lovers and friends who shall live
The days of thy glory to see : But the next dearest blessing that Heaven can give
Is the pride of thus dying for thee.
THE SAME TRANSLATED.
Cum sceleris titulos et fati præter acerbi
Nil tibi de fido cive superstes erit,
Qui tibi do vitam, terra paterna, meam ?
Sis tu flere memor! tunc, si maledixerit hostis,
Delebunt lachrymæ tristia probra tuæ : Testor enim coelum ; quanquam illi justa querela est,
Te nimiâ tantum dicar amâsse fide.
Prima mihi puero arrisit tua dulcis imago,
Unica tu mentis cura virilis eras :
Juncta meum nomen vota tuumque ferent.
Felix, quisquis erit tibi sospes amicus, Ierne,
Promissum fatis cum feret hora decus : Carus at hic coelo, vix illi sorte secundus,
Cui licuit pro te sic statuisse mori.
FROM ROMEO AND JULIET.
Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a woundBut soft! what light from yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun !Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious ; Her vestal livery is but sick and green, And none but fools do wear it: cast it off. It is my lady; Oh, it is my love ! Oh that she knew she were ! She speaks, yet she says nothing; What of that? Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold; 'tis not to me she speaks : Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do intreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres, till they return.