Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Aminta.
With hasty step , enrag'd , I homewards ran , ( Curse on my speed ) th' unerring tube I brought That fatal hour my date of woe began , Too sharp to tell—too horrible for thought—Disastrous dee'd 1—irrevocable ill !—How shall I tell the anguish of my Fate !
Teach me , remorseless monsters , not to feel , Instruct me , fiends and furies , to relate ! Wrathful behind the guilty shade I stole , 1 rais'd the tube—the clamorous woods resound—< Too late I saw the idol of my soul , Struck by my aim , fall shrieking to the ground 1
No other bliss her soul allow'd but me ; ( Hapless the pair that thus indulgent prove ) She sought concealment from a shady tree , In amorous silence to observe her love . I ran—but O ! . too soon I found it
true!—From her sfain'd breast life ' s crimson streanv'd apace From her wan eyes the sparkling lustres flew—The short-liv'd roses faded from her face ! Gods!—could I bear that fond reproachful look , That strove her peerless innocence to plead !—» But partial death awhile her tongue forsook
, To save a wretch that doom'd himself to bleed . While I distracted press'd her in my arms , And fondly strove t'imbibe her latest breath ; < c O spare , rash love , she cry'd , thy fatal charms , Nor seek cold shelter in the arms of death .
" Content beneath thy erring hand I die . Our fates grew envious of a bliss so true ; Then urge not thy distress when low I lie , But in this breath receive my last adieu 1 "—¦ No more she spake , but droop'dher lily head' . iii death she
sicken'd—breathless—haggard—pale-While all my inmost soul with horror bled , And ask'd kind vengeance from / the passing gale . Where slept your bolts , ye lingering lightnings , say ? Why riv'd ye not this self-condemned breast ? Or why , too passive Earth , didst thou delay , To stretch thy jaws , and crush me into
rest?——Low in the dust the beauteous corse I plac'd , Bedew'd and soft with many a falling tear ; With sable yew the rising turf I grae'd , And bade the cypress mourn iu silence near .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Aminta.
With hasty step , enrag'd , I homewards ran , ( Curse on my speed ) th' unerring tube I brought That fatal hour my date of woe began , Too sharp to tell—too horrible for thought—Disastrous dee'd 1—irrevocable ill !—How shall I tell the anguish of my Fate !
Teach me , remorseless monsters , not to feel , Instruct me , fiends and furies , to relate ! Wrathful behind the guilty shade I stole , 1 rais'd the tube—the clamorous woods resound—< Too late I saw the idol of my soul , Struck by my aim , fall shrieking to the ground 1
No other bliss her soul allow'd but me ; ( Hapless the pair that thus indulgent prove ) She sought concealment from a shady tree , In amorous silence to observe her love . I ran—but O ! . too soon I found it
true!—From her sfain'd breast life ' s crimson streanv'd apace From her wan eyes the sparkling lustres flew—The short-liv'd roses faded from her face ! Gods!—could I bear that fond reproachful look , That strove her peerless innocence to plead !—» But partial death awhile her tongue forsook
, To save a wretch that doom'd himself to bleed . While I distracted press'd her in my arms , And fondly strove t'imbibe her latest breath ; < c O spare , rash love , she cry'd , thy fatal charms , Nor seek cold shelter in the arms of death .
" Content beneath thy erring hand I die . Our fates grew envious of a bliss so true ; Then urge not thy distress when low I lie , But in this breath receive my last adieu 1 "—¦ No more she spake , but droop'dher lily head' . iii death she
sicken'd—breathless—haggard—pale-While all my inmost soul with horror bled , And ask'd kind vengeance from / the passing gale . Where slept your bolts , ye lingering lightnings , say ? Why riv'd ye not this self-condemned breast ? Or why , too passive Earth , didst thou delay , To stretch thy jaws , and crush me into
rest?——Low in the dust the beauteous corse I plac'd , Bedew'd and soft with many a falling tear ; With sable yew the rising turf I grae'd , And bade the cypress mourn iu silence near .