Though Fortune have so far from me removed,
All that I wish, or all I ever loved,
And Robbed our
Europe
of its chief Delight,
To bless the
Africk
(1) world with
Strephon's
Sight:
There with a Lady Beauteous, Rich, and Young,
Kind, Witty, Virtuous, the best Born among
The
Africk
Maids, presents this happy Swain,
Not to oblige Him, but to give Me Pain:
Then to my Ears, by tattling Fame, conveys
The Tale with large Additions; and to raise
My Anger higher, tells me 'tis designed,
That
Hymen's
Rites, their hands and hearts must bind:
Now She believes my Business done, and I
At the dire News would fetch a Sigh, and Die:
But She's deceived, I in my
Strephon
grow,
And if he's happy, I must needs be so:
Or if Fate could our Interests disjoin,
At his good Fortune I should ne'er Repine(2),
Though 'twere my Ruin; but I exult to hear,
Insulting
Mopsa
I no more shall fear;
No more he'll smile upon that ugly Witch:
In that one Thought, I'm Happy, Great, and Rich;
And blind Dame Fortune, meaning to Destroy,
Has filled my Soul with Ecstasies of Joy:
To Him I love, She's given a happy Fate,
And quite destroyed and ruined Her I hate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem