Part of Lyric Harmony

The Contest between Love and Glory


At Length too soon dear Creature,
Receive this fond Adieu,
Thy pains O LOVE! thow bitter,
Thy Joys how short how few!
No more those Eyes for killing,
The melting glance repeat,
Nor Bosom gently swelling,
With Love's soft tumult beat.

I go where Glory leads me,
And points the Dang'rous way:
Tho' Coward Love upbriads me,
Yet Hounour's boasting Story
Too plain those tears reprove,
And whisper, Fame, Wealth, Glory,
Ah! what are they to Love?

Two Passions strongly pleading
My Doubtfull breast divide,
Lo! there my Country bleeding,
And here, a weeping Bride;
But know thy faithfull Lover
Can true to either prove,
Fame fires my Veins all over;
Yet e'ery pulse beats Love.

Then think where e'er I wander,
The sport of Seas and Wind,
No distance Hearts can sunder,
Whom mutual truth has Join'd:
Kind Heav'n the brave requiting,
Shall safe thy Swain restore,
And raptures Crown the meeting,
[...]felt before.