Surpris’d, confounded, then he felt the smart.
Sometime with wonder on the maid he gaz’d,
Then silence broke, and thus, like one amaz’d:
“What do I feel! from whence this magic spell!
Is this that love of which the poets tell?
It must be so; else why this pleasing pain,
These sweet enchanting hopes the nymph to gain?
This fear, this dread, which does my soul molest?
Such things till now were strangers to my breast.”
He own’d ’twas love, and wish’d to find relief;