88
THE TRIUMPHS
So the shy bird, by cruel sportsmen sprung,
And by their random fire severely stung,
Scar'd, not disabled, by the distant wound,
Now trembling flies, now skims along the ground,
Now vainly tries, in some sequester'd spot,
From her gor'd breast to shake the galling shot.
Ye tender nymphs! whose kindling souls would flame,
Touch'd, like Serena's, by injurious blame,
O let your quick and kindred spirits form
A vivid picture of the mental storm
In which she labour'd, and whose force to paint
The Muse's strongest tints appear too faint!
In sympathetic thought her suffering see!
But O, for ever from such wrongs be free!
Her faithful girdle try'd its power to save,
And oft a monitory impulse gave;
Still unregarded, still unfelt, it prest
With useless energy her heaving breast,
And by their random fire severely stung,
Scar'd, not disabled, by the distant wound,
Now trembling flies, now skims along the ground,
Now vainly tries, in some sequester'd spot,
From her gor'd breast to shake the galling shot.
Ye tender nymphs! whose kindling souls would flame,
Touch'd, like Serena's, by injurious blame,
O let your quick and kindred spirits form
A vivid picture of the mental storm
In which she labour'd, and whose force to paint
The Muse's strongest tints appear too faint!
In sympathetic thought her suffering see!
But O, for ever from such wrongs be free!
Her faithful girdle try'd its power to save,
And oft a monitory impulse gave;
Still unregarded, still unfelt, it prest
With useless energy her heaving breast,
