"Al nuovo giorno,
Pietosa man' mi sollevo."Metastatsio.
"Ah me! how sad," Myrtilla cried,
"To waste alone my years!"
While o'er a streamlet's flow'ry side
She pensive hung, and watch'd the tide
That dimpled with her tears.
"The world, though oft to merit blind,
Alas, I cannot blame;
For they have oft the knee inclined.
And pour'd the sigh--but, like the wind
Of winter, cold it came.
"Ah no! neglect I cannot rue."
Then o'er the limpid stream
She cast her eyes of ether blue;
Her wat'ry eyes look'd up to view
Their lovelier parent's beam.
And ever as the sad lament
Would thus her lips divide,
Her lips, like sister roses bent
By passing gales, elastick sent
Their blushes from the tide.
While mournful o'er her pictur'd face
Did then her glances steal,
She seem'd she thought a marble Grace,
T' enslave with love the human race,
But ne'er that love to feel.
"Ah, what avail those eyes replete
With charms without a name!
Alas, no kindred rays they meet,
To kindle by collision sweet
Of mutual love the flame!
"Oh, 'tis the worst of cruel things,
This solitary state!
Yon bird that trims his purple wings,
As on the bending bow he swings.
Prepares to join his mate.
"The little glow-worm sheds her light,
Nor sheds her light in vain--
That still her tiny lover's sight
Amid the darkness of the night
May trace her o'er the plain.
"All living nature seems to move
By sympathy divine--
The sea, the earth, the air above;
As if one universal love
Did all their hearts entwine!