Betwixt two sheets thou fhalt 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 exercife contend,
When the appears, are all eclips'd and loft,
And hide the beauties that we made our boaft.
So, when the night and winter disappear,
The purple morning, rifing with the year,
Salutes the spring, 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 she may contend. But none, ah! none can animate the lyre, And the mute strings with vocal fouls infpire:
Whether the learn'd Minerva be her theme,
Or chafte Diana bathing in the ftream;
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 wifh 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 fhall 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
With fruitful joys Latona bless your love!
Let Venus furnish you with full defires,
Add vigour to your wills, and fuel to your fires!
Almighty Jove augment your wealthy ftore, 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
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 struts before his feather'd
flock.
Hymen, oh Hymen, to thy triumphs run,
And view the mighty spoils thou hast in battle
TWENTY-THIRD IDYLLIUM OF THEOCRITUS.
WITH inaufpicious love, a wretched swain
Purfu'd the fairest nymph of all the plain;
Faireft indeed, but prouder far than fair,
She plung'd him hopeless in a deep despair:
Her heavenly form too haughtily fhe priz'd, 5
His perfon hated, and his gifts despis'd;
Nor knew the force of Cupid's cruel darts,
Nor fear'd his awful power on human hearts;
But either from her hopeless lover fled,
Or with difdainful glances fhot him dead.
No kifs, no look, to cheer the drooping boy;
No word the fpoke, fhe fcorn'd even to deny.
But, as a hunted panther cafts about
Her glaring eyes, and pricks her listening ears
to fcout,
So fhe, to fhun his toils, her cares employ'd, 15 And fiercely in her favage freedom joy'd.
Her mouth fhe writh'd, her forehead taught to
Her eyes to fparkle fires to love unknown:
Her fallow cheeks her envious mind did fhew, And every feature spoke aloud the curftness of a fhrew.
Yet could not he his obvious fate escape;
His love ftill drefs'd her in a pleasing shape;
And every fullen frown, and bitter fcorn,
But fann'd the fuel that too faft did burn.
Long time, unequal to his mighty pain,
He ftrove to curb it, but he ftrove in vain :
At laft his woes broke out, and begg'd relief
With tears, the dumb petitioners of grief;
With tears fo tender, as adorn'd his love,
And any heart, but only her's, would move. 30
Trembling before her bolted doors he stood,
And there pour'd out the unprofitable flood;
Staring his eyes, and baggard was his look;
Then, kiffing first the threshold, thus he spoke.
Ah nymph, more cruel than of human
Thy tigress heart belies thy angel face:
Too well thou fhew'ft thy pedigree from ftone: Thy grandame's was the firft by Pyrrha thrown:
Unworthy thou to be fo long defir'd ;
But fo my love, and fo my fate requir'd,
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