Dido to Ictinus

Miss Porden

Not so inconstant do we find
 The waters of the sea
Not so inconstant is the wind
Its course to no fixed rules confined
 That rages o’er the lea
As in the plighted vows of love
Man’s faithless sex to women prove
Then hapless Dido, weep the while
For Ictinus is gone to the lonely Isle

The willow wreath, the mournful vest
 Must now, alas, be mine
And Oh that fate would calm to rest
The love that burns within my breast
 Or bid it glow in thine
But fate nor bids me cease to mourn
Nor does my cruel swain return
Who faithless in another’s smile
Forgets me in the lonely Isle


June 18th