Bid every guardian minister attend,
And from all ill the much-loved youth defend!'
With grief o'erwhelm'd we parted twice in vain,
And, urged by strong attraction, met again. 600
At last, by cruel fortune torn apart,
While tender passion beat in either heart,
Our eyes transfix'd with agonizing look,
One sad farewell, one last embrace, we took.
Forlorn of hope the lovely maid I left,
Pensive and pale, of every joy bereft:
She to her silent couch retired to weep,
Whilst I embark'd, in sadness, on the deep."
His tale thus closed, from sympathy of grief
Palemon's bosom felt a sweet relief: 610
To mutual friendship thus sincerely true,
No secret wish, or fear their bosoms knew;
In mutual hazards oft severely tried,
Nor hope, nor danger, could their love divide.
Ye tender maids! in whose pathetic souls
Compassion's sacred stream impetuous rolls,
Whose warm affections exquisitely feel
The secret wound you tremble to reveal;
Ah! may no wanderer of the stormy main
Pour through your breasts the soft delicious bane; 620
May never fatal tenderness approve
The fond effusions of their ardent love:
Oh! warn'd, avoid the path that leads to woe,
Where thorns and baneful weeds alternate grow:
Let them severer stoic nymphs possess,
Whose stubborn passions feel no soft distress.