And all my pleasures past augment my woes;
Yet fond remembrance shall those joys retain,
While vital life within this bosom flows.”
Thus spoke Belinda, on the turf reclin’d;
No ray of hope her sadd’ning fancy cheer’d:
When from a thicket, as by heav’n design’d,
A nymph celestial in her sight appear’d.
Her flowing robes wav’d in the ambient air;
A flow’ry wreath her modest temples grac’d;
Her presence kindly smooth’d the brow of care,