260
Poems on
Live! Jason, live! enjoy the vital Air!
Live thro' my aid! and fly where Winds can bear!—
But when he flies, ye Poisons lend your Pow'rs,
That Day, Medea treads th' infernal Shores!
Then, wretched Maid, thy Lot is endless Shame,
Then the proud Dames of Cholchos blast thy Name:
I hear them cry—'The false Medea's dead,
'Thro' guilty Passion for a Stranger's Bed;
'Medea careless of her Virgin Fame,
'Prefer'd a Stranger to a Father's Name!
O may I rather yield this vital Breath,
Than bear that base Dishonour, worse than Death!
Live thro' my aid! and fly where Winds can bear!—
But when he flies, ye Poisons lend your Pow'rs,
That Day, Medea treads th' infernal Shores!
Then, wretched Maid, thy Lot is endless Shame,
Then the proud Dames of Cholchos blast thy Name:
I hear them cry—'The false Medea's dead,
'Thro' guilty Passion for a Stranger's Bed;
'Medea careless of her Virgin Fame,
'Prefer'd a Stranger to a Father's Name!
O may I rather yield this vital Breath,
Than bear that base Dishonour, worse than Death!
Thus wail'd the Fair, and seiz'd with horrid joy
Drugs foes to Life, and potent to destroy,
A Magazine of Death! again she pours
From her swoln Eye-balls Tears in shining show'rs;
Drugs foes to Life, and potent to destroy,
A Magazine of Death! again she pours
From her swoln Eye-balls Tears in shining show'rs;
With
