dies

She views the story with attentive eyes,

And pities Procris, while her lover dies.

Lo! thy dread Empire, CHAOS! is restor'd;

Light dies before thy uncreating word;

Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall,

A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes;

At every word a reputation dies.

Snuff, or the fan, supply each pause of chat,

If thou couldst make the courtier void

The worm that never dies!

Where rebel to thy throne if science rise,

She does but show her coward face, and dies:

There thy good scholiasts with unwearied pains

Lean and fretful; would seem wise;

Yet plays the fool before she dies.

'Tis an ugly, envious shrew,

Sighs for love of the life they cherish,

Laughs to know that it lives and dies,

Dies for joy of its life, and lives

For love has no abiding,

But dies before the kiss;