DELUDED TRUTH observ'd the Fraud too late,
Nor knew she to repair a Loss so great:
In vain her heav'nly Robes she, sighing, seeks;
In vain the humid Pearls bedew her Cheeks;
In vain she tears the Laurel from her Hair,
While Nature seems to sympathize her Care:
The glowing Flow'rs, that crown th'enamel'd Meads,
Weep fragrant Dews, and hang their drooping Heads;
The sylvan Choirs, as conscious of her Pains,
Deplore her Loss in melancholy Strains.
Thus, pensive and uncloath'd, upon the Shore
She stands; and sees the Robe, which FALSHOOD wore:
Detested Sight! Nor longer now she mourns;
But, Grief to Rage transform'd, with Anger burns:
Into the Stream, the hellish Robe she tost;
And scorn'd a Habit, so unlike the lost.