Elegy I: On His Falling In Love With Neæra Poem by James Hammond

Farewel that Liberty our Fathers gave,
In vain they gave, their Sons receiv'd in vain:
I saw Neæra, and her instant Slave,
Tho' born a Briton, hug'd the servile Chain.


Her Usage well repays my coward Heart,
Meanly she triumphs in her Lover's Shame,
No healing Joy relieves his constant Smart,
No Smile of Love rewards the Loss of Fame.


Oh that to feel these killing Pangs no more,
On Scythian Hills I lay a senseless Stone,
Was fix'd a Rock amidst the watry Roar,
And in the vast Atlantic stood alone.


Adieu, ye Muses, or my Passion aid,
Why shou'd I loiter by your idle Spring?
My humble Voice wou'd move one only Maid,
And she contemns the Trifles which I sing.


I do not ask the lofty Epick Strain,
Nor strive to paint the Wonders of the Sphere;
I only sing one cruel Maid to gain,
Adieu, ye Muses, if she will not hear.


No more in useless Innocence I'll pine
Since guilty Presents win the greedy Fair,
I'll tear it's Honours from the broken Shrine,
But chiefly thine, O Venus, will I tear.


Deceiv'd by thee, I lov'd a beauteous Maid,
Who bends on sordid Gold her low Desires:
Nor Worth nor Passion can her Heart persuade,
But Love must act what Avarice requires.


Unwise who first, the Charm of Nature lost,
With Tyrian Purple soil'd the snowy Sheep;
Unwiser still who Seas and Mountains crost,
To dig the Rock, and search the pearly Deep:


These costly Toys our silly Fair surprise,
The shining Follies cheat their feeble Sight,
Their Hearts, secure in Trifles, Love despise,
'Tis vain to court them, but more vain to write.


Why did the Gods conceal the little Mind
And earthly Thought beneath a heav'nly Face?
Forget the Worth that dignifies Mankind,
Yet smooth and polish so each outward Grace?


Hence all the Blame that Love and Venus bear,
Hence Pleasure short, and Anguish ever long,
Hence Tears and Sighs, and hence the peevish Fair,
The froward Lover,-Hence this angry Song.