CONSTANTIA
Sick of the world, in prime of days
Constantia took a serious fit —
Resolved to shun all balls and plays
And only read what saints had writ —
To Convent Hall she would repair
And be a pensive sister there.
“What are they all — this glare of things,
These insects that around me shine;
These beaux and belles on silken wings —
Indeed their pleasures make not mine —
My happiness is all delayed —
I'll go, and find it in the shade.”
A sailor, loitering from his crew,
As chance would have it, passed along —
She told him what she had in view,
And he replied — “Fair maid you're wrong,
“Let faded nymphs to cloisters go,
“Where kisses freeze and love is snow.
“The druids’ oak and hermits’ pine
“Afford a gloomy, sad delight;
“But why that blush of health resign,
“The mingled tint of red and white?
“In moistening cells the flowers expire
“That, on the plain, all eyes admire.
“With such a pensive, pious train
“Who, but a hermit, could agree —
“Ah, rather stay to grace the plain,
“Or wander on the wave with me:
“For you the painted barque shall wait
“And I would die for such a freight.”
“No wandering stranger ( she replied )
“Can tempt me to forego my plan;
“No barque that wafts him o'er the tide,
“Nor many a better looking man:
“Go, wanderer, plough your gloomy sea,
“Constantia must a sister be.
“To gain so fair a flower as you,
“( The Tar returned ) who would not plead?
“Nor shall you, nymph, to convents go
“While love can write what you must read:
“Come, to yon’ meadow let us stray,
“I have some handsome things to say.”
“Love has its wish when reason fails —
“In vain he sighed, in vain he strove:
“Forsake ( said she ) those swelling sails
“If you would have me — think of love:
“Great merit has your sailing art,
“But absence would distract my heart.”
What else was said, we secret keep;—
The Tar, grown fonder of the shore,
Neglects his prospects on the deep,
And she of convents talks no more:—
He slyly quits the coasting trade
She pities her — who seeks the shade.