To Amasia ("See, how in Sorrows Drown'd")

See, how in Sorrows Drown'd I trembling stand,
See, how my Pen falls from my Feeble Hand.
Why, let it fall — I'll now embrace my Chain,
No more in Words, no more in Sighs complain,
And never, never write, despis'd, again.
To end my Woes, and Life, at once, I'll try,
Burst, burst my Heart — lost Wretch! run mad and die.
Tear first thy Eyes, there let thy rage begin,
Thy Eyes first drew the fatal mischief in,
For thou had'st never Lov'd, if thou had'st never seen.
Hurl, hurl the Bleeding Balls, and let them meet
Their abject Doom, spurn'd by Amasia's Feet.
What have they done? how does their Crime appear;
What could they do, but look, when she was near?
With sight Seal'd up, Men sleep, tho' Stars shine Bright,
But the Sun ris'n —
All Eyes are Open to receive the light.
O let me grow distracted with my Moan,
And roving in some desart land, unknown,
Lose my loath'd Life, and Senseless, stiffen into Stone.
Ev'n then the Marks of deepest Woes I'll bear,
And stand the very Statue of Despair;
A frightful Wildness in my look, and Terrour in my Air.
Strange! I should wish this desp'rate State to prove,
Strange! that no Charm your rigid Breast can move.
Strange! you despise —
The softest, dearest, and the tend'rest Love!
No Charm but Gold? — Oh! wilt thou then be sold?
Wilt thou Debase thy self to Servile Gold?
His Golden wish, when Midas came to die,
He Curst — and wisht him Poor, yes, Poor as I.