But fancy fled, you quit ihe blissful state,

And truth for ever bars the golden gate.

HENRV. True! but how ill each other to upbraid „Tis not our fault that we no longer staid; No sudden fate our lingering love supprest, It died an easy death, and calmly sank to rest: To either sex is the delusion lent, 3

And when it fails us, we should rest content,

„Tis cruel to reproach, when bootless to repent.

EMMA.

Then wise the lovers who consent to wait,

And always lingering, never try the state;

But hurried on, by what they call their pain And I their bliss, no longer they refrain;

To ease that pain, to lose that bliss, they run To ihe church magi, and the thing is done; A spell is utter'd, and a ring applied,

And forih they walk a bridgegroom and a bride,