190
Poems on
Those Darts, to jealous Rage stern Herod drove,
It was a Crime, but Crime of too much Love!
Yet if condemn'd he falls—with pitying Eyes
Behold his injur'd Mariamne rise!
No fancy'd Tale! our op'ning Scenes disclose
Historic Truth, and swell with real Woes.
Awful in virtuous Grief the Queen appears,
And strong the Eloquence of Royal Tears;
By Woes ennobled, with majestic pace,
She meets Misfortune, glorious in Disgrace!
It was a Crime, but Crime of too much Love!
Yet if condemn'd he falls—with pitying Eyes
Behold his injur'd Mariamne rise!
No fancy'd Tale! our op'ning Scenes disclose
Historic Truth, and swell with real Woes.
Awful in virtuous Grief the Queen appears,
And strong the Eloquence of Royal Tears;
By Woes ennobled, with majestic pace,
She meets Misfortune, glorious in Disgrace!
Small is the Praise of Beauty, when it flies
Fair Honour's Laws, at best but lovely Vice;
Charms it like Venus with celestial Air?
Ev'n Venus is but scandalously Fair;
But when strict Honour with fair Features joins,
Like Heat and Light, at once it warms and shines.
Fair Honour's Laws, at best but lovely Vice;
Charms it like Venus with celestial Air?
Ev'n Venus is but scandalously Fair;
But when strict Honour with fair Features joins,
Like Heat and Light, at once it warms and shines.
Then
