By all the horrors brooding o'er the deep, Where fate, and ruin, sad dominion keep; Though tyrant duty o'er me threatening stands, 560 And claims obedience to her stern commands, Should fortune cruel or auspicious prove, Her smile or frown shall never change my love: My heart, that now must every joy resign, Incapable of change, is only thine. "Oh, cease to weep, this storm will yet decay, And the sad clouds of sorrow melt away: While through the rugged path of life we go, All mortals taste the bitter draught of woe: The famed and great, decreed to equal pain, 570 Full oft in splendid wretchedness complain: For this, prosperity, with brighter ray, In smiling contrast gilds our vital day, Thou, too, sweet maid! ere twice ten months are o'er, Shalt hail Palemon to his native shore, Where never interest shall divide us more.-- "Her struggling soul, o'erwhelm'd with tender grief, Now found an interval of short relief: So melts the surface of the frozen stream Beneath the wintry sun's departing beam. 580 With cruel haste the shades of night withdrew, And gave the signal of a sad adieu. As on my neck the afflicted maiden hung, A thousand racking doubts her spirit wrung: She wept the terrors of the fearful wave, Too oft, alas! the wandering lover's grave: With soft persuasion I dispell'd her fear, And from her cheek beguiled the falling tear, While dying fondness languished in her eyes, She pour'd her soul to heaven in suppliant sighs! 590 'Look down with pity, O ye powers above! Who hear the sad complaint of bleeding love; Ye, who the secret laws of fate explore, Alone can tell if he returns no more; Or if the hour of future joy remain, Long-wish'd atonement of long-suffer'd pain; Bid every guardian minister attend, And from all ill the much-loved youth defend!' With grief o'erwhelm'd we parted twice in vain, And, urged by strong attraction, met again. 600 At last, by cruel fortune torn apart, While tender passion beat in either heart, Our eyes transfix'd with agonizing look, One sad farewell, one last embrace, we took. Forlorn of hope the lovely maid I left, Pensive and pale, of every joy bereft: She to her silent couch retired to weep, Whilst I embark'd, in sadness, on the deep." His tale thus closed, from sympathy of grief Palemon's bosom felt a sweet relief: 610 To mutual friendship thus sincerely true, No secret wish, or fear their bosoms knew; In mutual hazards oft severely tried, Nor hope, nor danger, could their love divide. Ye tender maids! in whose pathetic souls Compassion's sacred stream impetuous rolls,