Page:Oriental Sketches Dramatic Sketches and Tales.pdf/204

Pursue the chase too keenly; that quick eye,
That lion heart, that lithe and active form,
Could not be baffled by the brutal strength
Of the grim monsters he delights to slay.
Armida's art could weave a flow'ry chain,
Which bound Rinaldo's soul; he never sighed,
In her fair bower, for battle, swords and spears;
But my loved truant (like the cruel boy,
Whom beauty's goddess could not hold within
Her snowy arms) spite of my smiles, my tears,
Will burst the gentle bondage. I have gazed
Upon the glowing canvass of our grand,
Our mightiest master, little fancying
It was my own sad tale. The eager dogs
Strain on the leash; the lovely hunter's heart,
Though his strong arm reins in the panting hounds,
Is with the chase; and she, the queen of love,
With ineffectual pleading, supplicates
Her loved Adonis to forego his sport.
He breaks the links her intertwining arms