On the Marriage of the Right Honourable the Earle of Dorset and Middlesex, to the Lady Mary Compton.
A Dialogue. Between Damon and Aminta. By Mrs. Behn.
Aminta.
Whither, young Damon, whither in such hast,
Swift as the Winds you sweep the Grove,
The Amorous God of Day scarce hy'd so fast
After his flying Love?
Damon.
Aminta, view my Face, and thence survey
My very Soul and all its mighty joy!
A joy too great to be conceal'd,
And without speaking is reveal'd;
For this eternal Holyday.
A Day to place i'th' Shepherds Kalendar,
To stand the glory of the circling year.
Let its blest date on every Bark be set,
And every Echo its dear name repeat.
Let 'em tell all the neighbouring Woods and Plains,
That Lysidus, the Beauty of the Swains,
Our darling youth, our wonder and our Pride,
Is blest with fair Clemena for a Bride.
Oh happy Pair! Let all the Groves rejoyce,
And gladness fill each heart and every voyce!
Aminta.
Clemena! that bright maid for whom our Shepherds pine,
For whom so many weeping Eyes decline!
For whom the Echos all complain,
For whom with sigh and falling tears
The Lover in his soft despairs
Disturbs the Peaceful Rivers gliding stream?
The bright Clemena who has been so long
The destinie of hearts and yet so young,
She that has robb'd so many of content
Yet is herself so Sweet, so Innocent.
She, that as many hearts invades,
As charming Lysidus has conquer'd maids,
Oh tell me, Damon, is the lovely fair
Become the dear reward of all the Shepherds care?
Has Lysidus that prize of Glory won
For whom so many sighing Swains must be undon?
Damon.
Yes, it was destin'd from Eternity,
They only shou'd each other's be,
Hail, lovely pair, whom every God design'd
In your first great Creation shou'd be joyn'd.
Aminta.