His gentle Azure Wings were all unprun’d, And the gay Plumes a fading Tinct assum’d; Which down his snowy sides extended lay, And now no more in wanton Motions play. He blusht to think he had not left one dart, Of force enough to wound _Aminta’s_ Heart; He blusht to think she shou’d her freedom boast, Whilst mine from the first Dart he sent was lost: Thus tir’d with our Complaints; (whilst no relief Rescu’d the fleeting Soul from killing Grief) We saw a Maid approach, who’s lovely Face Disdain’d the Beauties of the common race: Soft were her Eyes, where unfeign’d Sorrow dwelt, And on her Cheeks in pitying Show’rs they melt: Soft was her Voice, and tenderly it strook, The eager listening Soul, when e’re she spoke; And what did yet my Courage more augment, She wore this sadness for my languishment. _And sighing said, ah Gods! have you_ _Beheld this dying Youth, and never found_ _A pity for a Heart so true,_ _Which dyes adoring her that gave the Wound?_ _His Youth, his Passion, and his Constancy,_ _Merits, ye God’s, a kinder Destiny._ With pleasure I attended what she said, And wonder’d at the friendship of the Maid. Of LOVE I ask’d her name? who answer’d me, ‘Twas _Pity_: Enemy to _Cruelty_: Who often came endeavouring to abate, The Languishments of the unfortunate; And said, if she wou’d take my injur’d part, She soon wou’d soften fair _Aminta’s_ Heart; For she knows all the subtillest Arts to move, And teach the timorous Virgin how to love. With Joy I heard, and my Address apply’d, To gain the Beauteous _Pity_ to my Side: Nothing I left untold that might perswade, The listening Virgin to afford her aid. Told her my Passions, Sorrows, Pains and Fears, And whilst I spoke, confirm’d ‘em with my Tears; All which with down-cast Eyes she did attend, And blushing said, my Tale had made a Friend; I bow’d and thankt her with a chearful look, Which being return’d by hers, her leave she took: Now to _Aminta_ all in haste she hyes, } Whom she assail’d with sorrow in her Eyes, } And a sad story of my Miseries, } Which she with so much tenderness exprest, As forc’d some Sighs from the fair Charmers Breast; The subtil _Pity_ found she should prevail, And oft repeats th’ insinuating Tale, And does insensibly the Maid betray, Where _Love_ and I, Panting and Trembling lay; Where she beheld th’ effects of her disdain, And in my languid Face she read my Pain. Down her fair Cheeks some pitying drops did glide; Which cou’d not be restrain’d by feebler Pride; Against my anguish she had no defence, Such Charms had grief, my Tears such Eloquence; My Sighs and Murmurs she began t’ approve, And listen’d to the story of my LOVE.