Sonnet. To Melpomene

A Pleasing sadness thrills the pensive soul,
Each pulse attentive beats with motion slow;
Now quickly chang'd, conflicting passions roll,
And ev'ry nerve with new sensations glow.

“Now, Jaffier, now!” the lovely mourner cries,
“'Tis Belvidera courts the pointed steel;
Now, my best love, thy Belvidera dies,
Strike while thy bosom ev'ry fear conceal.”

Phrenzy recoils, and love holds sov'reign sway,
Affection hurls aside the erring dart;
And he that could his gen'rous friend betray,
Acts—nobly acts—the friend and lover's part.
Such, sweet Melpomene's, thy pow'r to move
The callous heart—to sympathy and love.
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