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I forget them, may the propitious gods forsake me! and may thy sacred shade for ever fly me! It is thou that hast just preserved my innocence. I come to tell thy manes all. Wretch that I am! Is there any one on earth to whom I dare open my heart?-Nicias, the lord of this country, came hither to enjoy the pleasures of the autumn. He saw me; he regarded me with a soft and gracious air. He praised my flocks, and the care I took of them: he often told me that I was genteel, and made me presents. Gods! how was I deceived ! But, in the country, who mistrusts ? I said to myself, how kind our master is! May the gods reward him! All my vows shall be for him : 'tis all that I can do—but I will for ever do it. The rich are happy, and favour'd by the immortals. When bountiful, like niceas, they deserve to be happy. This, to myself, I said, and let him take my hand, and

press it in his. The other day I blush'd, and dared not look up, when he put a gold ring upon my finger. See, he said—see what is engraved on this stone! A winged child, who smiles, like thee; and 'tis he that must make thee happy. As he spoke these words, he stroked my cheeks, that were redder than the fire. He loves me; he has the tenderness of a father for me: how have I deserved so much kindness from a lord, and so rich and powerful? O, my mother! that was all thy poor child thought. Heavens! how was I deceived ! This morning he found me in the orchard ; he chuck'd me familiarly under the chin. Come, he said, bring me some new-blown flowers to the myrtle bower, that I may there enjoy their sweet perfumes. With haste I chose the finest flowers, and, full of joy, I ran to the bower. Thou art, he said, more nimble than the zephyrs, and more beautiful than the goddess of flowers. Then, immortal gods!—I yet tremble' at the thought— then, he catch'd me in his arms, and press'd me to his bosom; and all that love can promise, all that is soft and seducing, flow'd from his lips. I wept-I trembled. Unable to resist such arts, I had been for ever lost—no, thou wouldst no longer have had a child—if thy remembrance had not watch'd over my heart. Ah! if thy worthy mother had ever seen thee suffer such disgraceful caresses ! That thought alone gave me power to force myself from the arms of the seducer, and fly. Now, I come :-O with what comfort is it that I still dare ! -I come to weep over thy grave. Alas! poor

and unfortunate as I am, why did I lose thee when so young! I droop like a flower, deprived of the support that sustain'd its feeble stalk. This

pure water I pour to the honour of thy manes. Accept this garland! Receive my tears! May they penetrate even to thy ashes! Hear, O my mother, hear—'tis to thy dear remains, that repose beneath these flowers, which my eyes have so often bedew'd—'tis to thy sacred shade I here renew the vows of Virtue, innocence, and the fear of the gods, shall make the happiness of my days. Therefore, poverty shall never disturb the serenity of my mind. May I do nothing that thou wouldst not have ap



my heart.


prov'd with a smile of tenderness, and I shall surely be, as thou wast, belov'd of gods and men: for I shall be gentle, modest, and industrious. O my mother, by living thus, I hope to die like thee, with smiles, and tears of joy !"

GLICERA, on quitting the place, felt all the powerful charms of virtue. The gentle warmth that was diffused over her mind, sparkled in her eyes, still wet with tears. She was beautiful as those days of spring, when the sun shines through a transient shower. With a mind. quite tranquil, she was hastening back to her labour, when NICIAS ran to meet her. O GLICERA! he said—and tears flowed down his cheeks—I have heard thee at thy mother's tomb. Fear nothing, virtuous maid ! I thank the immortal gods! I thank that virtue which hath preserved me from the crime of seducing thy innocence. Forgive me, chaste GLICERA! forgive, nor dread in me a fresh offence. My virtue triumphs through thine. Be wise, be virtuous, and be ever happy. That meadow surrounded with trees, near to thy mother's tomb, and half the flock thou keepest are thine. May a man of equal virtue complete the happiness of thy days! Weep not, virtuous maid! but accept the present I offer thee with a sincere heart, and suffer me, from henceforth, to watch over thy happiness. Įf thou refusest me, a remorse, for offending thy virtue, will be the torment of all my days. Forget, О vouchsafe to forget my crime! and I will revere thee as a propitious power that hath defended me against myself.


for me.

I HAVE seen Daphne. Perhaps, alas! perhaps it would have been happy for me had I not seen her. Never before did she appear so charming. I was reposing, during the noon-day fervour, under the shadow of the willows, where the brook rolls slowly o'er the pebbles. The clustering boughs hung o'er my head, and spread their peaceful shade upon the water. There I enjoyed the sweetness of repose. But since that hour, alas! there is no repose

Not far from the bank where I sat, I heard a rustling of the leaves, and presently saw DAPHNE, the beauteous DAPHNE! She walked in the shade, by the side of the stream. There, with a charming grace, she rais'd her azure robe, and discovering her lovely feet, entered the limpid stream: then her body gently inclining, with her right hand she laved her beauteous visage, and, with the other, held her flowing robe : then she stopp'd, and waited till not a drop fell from her hand to agitate the surface of the stream. The water, become tranquil, presented the artless semblance of her lovely features. DAPHNE smild at her own beauty, and her flaxen tresses in a charming group collected. For whom, I sighing said, for whom are all these cares? Who wou'd she please? Who is the happy mortal that employs her thoughts; while the pleasure to see herself so lovely thus blows the roses of her lips.

While she mused, inclining o'er the brook, she dropp'd the nosegay that adorn'd her bosom, and the stream brought it to where I sat. DAPHNE retired, and I seiz'd the nosegay. How I kiss'd it! How I held it to my panting heart! No, I would not have parted with it for a whole flock. But, alas ! it fades—this lovely nosegay! and yet it is but two days since I first possessed it. With what care have I not preserv'd it! I have still kept it in the prize cup I gain’d in the spring by singing. On it is seen, curiously engraved, the figure of Love, sitting under a bower of myrtle ; with the ends of his fingers he, smiling, tries the sharpness of his arrows; at his feet appear two doves, their wings mixing together, while they tenderly bill each other. Three times each day, in this cup, have I refresh'd my nosegay with the purest water, and at night exposed it at my window to the dew of heaven. How often, leaning over these flowers, have I breath'd their sweet perfumes! Their odour seems to me more delicious, and their colours more brilliant than those of all the flowerets of the spring. It was on DAPHNE's bosom they completely bloom'd.

Then, in an ecstasy, I contemplate the cup, and I sighing say—0 Love! how infectious are thy arrows! how forcibly I feel their sting! Ah! make DAPHNE feel for me but half of what I feel for her, and I will consecrate to thee this cup. I will place

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