Why has my Anna thus forgot her friend?
Did we not meet at friendship's sacred shrine?
Did not our mutual vows of truth ascend,
A grateful offering to the power divine?—
But ah! ev'n there, I saw the palsian queen
With strong resentment in her beauteous eyes;
She walk'd disorder'd near her sister's fane,
“Cupid, my son, this must not be! she cries;
Was not this Anna to our altars led,
By Hymen lately with a favour'd swain?
Did not his purple wings the pair o'erspread?
And must his golden torch be lit in vain?
Must she neglect my rites and sacrifice
Before my rival, with a female friend?
Cupid, it must not be; part them she cries,
And soon their airy schemes of bliss will end.
'Tis done, and memory with a pang severe,
Now swells my heart with many a rising sigh;
Tho' you, my Anna, check'd the parting tear,
'Twas paid with interest when you pass'd me by.