Noble and young, who strikes the heart With ev'ry sprightly, ev'ry decent part; Equal, the injur'd to defend, To charm the Mistress, or to fix the Friend. He, with a hundred Arts refin'd, Shall ftretch thy conquests over half the kind : To him each Rival shall submit, Make but his Riches equal to his Wit. Then shall thy Form the Marble grace, (Thy Grecian Form) and Chloe lend the Face: His House, embosom'd in the Grove, Sacred to focial life and focial love, Shall glitter o'er the pendent green, Where Thames reflects the vifionary scene: Thither, the filver founding lyres Shall call the fmiling Loves, and young Defires; There, ev'ry Grace and Muse shall throng, Comiffabere Maximi; Si torrere jecur quaeris idoneum. Namque et nobilis, et decens, Et pro folicitis non tacitus reis, Et centum puer artium, Late figna feret militiae tuae. Et, quandoque potentior Largis muneribus riferit aemuli, Albanos prope te lacus Ponet marmoream fub trabe citrea. Illic plurima naribus Duces thura; lyraque et Berecynthiae Delectabere tibia Mixtis carminibus, non fine fistula. There Youths and Nymphs, in confort gay, For me, the vernal garlands bloom no more. The ftill-believing, ftill-renew'd defire; Adieu! the heart-expanding bowl, And all the kind Deceivers of the foul! But why? ah tell me, ah too dear! Steals down my cheek th' involuntary Tear? Why words fo flowing, thoughts fo free, Stop, or turn nonsense, at one glance of thee? Thee, dreft in Fancy's airy beam, Abfent I follow thro' th' extended Dream; Now, now I cease, I clasp thy charms, And now you burst (ah cruel!) from my arms; And swiftly fhoot along the Mall, Or foftly glide by the Canal, Now shown by Cynthia's filver ray, And now, on rolling waters fnatch'd away. Illic bis pueri die Numen cum teneris virginibus tuum Laudantes, pede candido In morem Salium ter quatient humum. Me nec femina, nec puer Jam, nec fpes animi credula mutui, Nec certare juvat mero, Nec vincire novis tempora floribus. Sed cur, heu! Ligurine, cur Manat rara meas lacrymo per genas? Cur facunda parum decoro Inter verba cadit lingua filentio? Nocturnis te ego fomniis Jam captum tenco, jam volucrem fequor Te per gramina Martii Campi, te per aquas, dure, volubiles. Part of the NINTH ODE Of the FOURTH BOOK. A FRAGMENT. LEST you fhould think that verfe fhall die, Taught on the wings of Truth to fly Tho' daring Milton fits fublime, Sages and Chiefs long fince had birth These rais'd new Empires o'er the Earth, And Thofe, new Heav'ns and Systems fram'd. NE forte credas interitura, quae Verba loquor focianda chordis ; Non, fi priores Maeonius tenet Nec, fi quid olim lufit Anacreon, Aeoliae fidibus puellae. |