Page:The Works of Alexander Pope (1717).djvu/465

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MISCELLANIES.
429
Provoking Daemons all restraint remove,And stir within me every source of love.I hear thee, view thee, gaze o'er all thy charms,And round thy phantom glue my clasping arms.I wake — no more I hear, no more I view,The phantom flies me, as unkind as you.I call aloud; it hears not what I say;I stretch my empty arms; it glides away.To dream once more I close my willing eyes;Ye soft illusions, dear deceits, arise!Alas, no more — methinks we wand'ring goThrough dreary wastes, and weep each other's woe,Where round some mould'ring tower pale ivy creeps,And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps.Sudden you mount, you beckon from the skies;Clouds interpose, waves roar, and winds arise.I shriek, start up, the same sad prospect find,And wake to all the griefs I left behind. For thee the fates, severely kind, ordainA cool suspense from pleasure and from pain;

Thy

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