1784
ENGLISH POETRY 1579-1830: SPENSER AND THE TRADITION

Jessy. A Pastoral.

Edinburgh Weekly Magazine 60 (10 June 1784) 301.

Anonymous


A pastoral elegy "By the Author of Werter to Charlotte, Hero and Leander, &c." Colin mourns the death of his Jessy: "Fierce Death now thy pow'r I defy, | Thou hast robb'd me of all I held dear; | Since Jessy is lost to my eye, | Life now is beneath Colin's care." Bereft of all particulars, the poem is more of a lyric than a proper elegy.



My moments, ye Gods, were once blest,
When Jessy bloom'd fair as the day;
But, ah! Death has broken my rest,
And tore my dear Jessy away.
No more shall I dwell with delight
On the sweet melting voice of my fair;
For Jessy is lost to my sight,
And Colin is plunged in despair.

My Jessy, thy form was divine,
Thy mind sweetly beam'd in thy face;
The Virtues lov'd there to combine,
And gather fresh lustre and grace.
Thy shepherd was still thy delight,
Was ever so happy a pair!
But now thou art lost to my sight,
And Colin knows nought but despair.

When Night wraps the fields in her gloom,
I haste to where Jessy is laid,
There pour out my soul at her tomb,
Cursing Death for the rapine he made.
Sad Philomel hears me complain,
And awhile does her sorrow forego;
But soon she resumes it again,
And fills up each pause of my woe.

Heav'n has not the pow'r to restore
The bliss that I once did obtain;
And it still makes me sorrow the more,
Because all my sorrow is vain.
Fierce Death now thy pow'r I defy,
Thou hast robb'd me of all I held dear;
Since Jessy is lost to my eye,
Life now is beneath Colin's care.

[p. 301]