On the Expiration of the Mourning
Long in sable vest appearing
Albion’s nymphs Amelia mourned,
This sweet morn their sorrows cheering
Views in gayer robes adorned
Each in gaudy hues arraying
Strives her rivals to outshine
Each her sweetest smiles displaying
Hails the morn of Valentine.
But o’er all superior shining
Fair Maria claims my love,
But my humble suit declining
Naught her flinty heart can move.
Yet in robe of white adorning
May it prove her bridal vest!
With her own may end my mourning
And this day behold me blest.
Constantius