With violet wreaths adorn'd their flowing hair;
And to the pompous palace did resort,
Where Menelaus kept his royal court.
There hand in hand a comely choir they led ;'
To fing a bleffing to his nuptial bed,
With curious needles wrought, and painted
flowers bespread.
Jove's beauteous daughter now his bride muft
And Jove himself was lefs a god than he:
For this their artful hands inftruct the lute to
Their feet affift their hands, and juftly beat the ground.
This was their fong: Why, happy bridegroom, why,
Ere yet the stars are kindled in the fky,
Ere twilight fhades, or evening dews are shed,
Why doft thou steal fo foon away to bed?
Has Somnus brush'd thy eye-lids with his rod,
Or do thy legs refuse to bear their load,
With flowing bowls of a more generous god?
If gentle flumber on thy temples creep,
(But, naughty man, thou doft not mean to
fleep)
Betake thee to thy bed, thou drowzy drone,
Sleep by thyself, and leave thy bride alone :
Go, leave her with her maiden mates to play
At fports more harmless till the break of day :
Give us this evening; thou haft morn and
night,
And all the year before thee, for delight.
O happy youth! to thee, among the crowd
Of rival princes, Cupid fneez'd aloud;
And every lucky omen fent before,
To meet thee landing on the Spartan fhore. so
Of all our heroes thou canst boaft alone,
That Jove, whene'er he thunders, calls thee
Betwixt two sheets thou shalt enjoy her bare,
With whom no Grecian virgin can compare ;
So foft, fo fweet, fo balmy and fo fair.
A boy, like thee, would make a kingly line :
But oh, a girl like her must be divine.
Her equals, we, in years, but not in face,
Twelve fcore viragos of the Spartan race,
While naked to Eurotas' banks we bend,
And there in manly exercise contend,
When the appears, are all eclips'd and loft,
And hide the beauties that we made our boast.
So, when the night and winter difappear,
The purple morning, rifing with the year,
Salutes the fpring, as her celestial eyes
Adorn the world, and brighten all the skies:
So beauteous Helen fhines among the reft,
Tall, flender, ftraight, with all the Graces
bleft.
As pines the mountains, or as fields the corn, 50
Or as Theffalian fteeds the race adorn;
So rofy-colour'd Helen is the pride
Of Lacedæmon, and of Greece befide.
Like her no nymph can willing ofiers bend
In basket-works, which painted ftreaks com-
mend:
With Pallas in the loom fhe may contend.
But none, ah! none can animate the lyre,
And the mute strings with vocal fouls inspire :'
Whether the learn'd Minerva be her theme,
Or chafte Diana bathing in the stream;
None can record their heavenly praise fo well
As Helen, in whofe eyes ten thousand Cupids
dwell.
O fair, O graceful! yet with maids inroll'd,
But whom to-morrow's fun a matron fhall be-
Yet ere to-morrow's fun fhall fhew his head,
The dewy paths of meadows we will tread,
For crowns and chaplets to adorn thy head.
Where all shall weep, and wish for thy return,
As bleating lambs their absent mother mourn.
Our nobleft maids fhall to thy name bequeath
The boughs of Lotos, form'd into a wreath. 71
This monument, thy maiden beauties' due,
High on a plane-tree shall be hung to view:
On the smooth rind the paffenger fhall fee
Thy name engrav'd, and worship Helen's tree:
Balm, from a filver box diftill'd around,
Shall all bedew the roots, and scent the facred
The balm, 'tis true, can aged plants prolong, But Helen's name will keep it ever young. Hail bride, hail bridegroom, fon-in-law to Jove!
With fruitful joys Latona blefs your love!
Let Venus furnish you with full defires,
Add vigour to your wills, and fuel to your fires!
Almighty Jove augment your wealthy store, Give much to you, and to his grandfons more ! From generous loins a generous race will spring, Each girl, like her, a queen; each boy, like you, a king.
Now fleep, if fleep you can; but while
you reft, Sleep clofe, with folded arms, and breast to breaft:
Rife in the morn; but oh! before you rife, 90 Forget not to perform your morning facrifice. We will be with you ere the crowing cock Salutes the light, and ftruts before his feather'd flock.
Hymen, oh Hymen, to thy triumphs run, And view the mighty fpoils thou haft in battle
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