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1766–1823

Resentment and Tenderness.

Robert Bloomfield

‘ Twas thus, each soft actuation laid aside, She buoy'd her spirits up with maiden pride; Disclaimed her love, e'en while she felt the sting; ‘ What, come for Walter's sake!’‘ Twas no such thing.

But when astonishment his tongue releas'd, Pride's usurpation in an instant ceas'd: By force he caught her hand as passing by, And gaz'd upon her half averted eye;

His heart's distraction, and his boding fears She heard, and answer'd with a flood of tears; Precious relief; sure friends that forward press To tell the mind's unspeakable distress.

Ye Youths, whom crimson'd health and genuine fire Bear joyous on the wings of young desire, Ye, who still bow to Love's almighty sway, What could true passion, what could Walter say?

Age, tell me true, nor shake your locks in vain, Tread back your paths, and be in love again;

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Resentment and Tenderness. · Robert Bloomfield · Poetry Cove