The rage of fell Cupid no bosom profanes,
No rancour disturbs our delight,
All the day with fresh vigour we sweep o'er the
And sleep with contentment all night.'
Their clamour roused the slighted god of love:
He flies, indignant, to the sacred grove:
Immortal myrtles wreath his golden hair,
His rosy wings perfume the wanton air;
Two quivers fill'd with darts his fell designs de-
clare.
A crimson blush o'erspread Diana's face,
A frown succeeds-She stops the springing chase,
And thus forbids the boy the consecrated place.
Fond disturber of the heart,
From these sacred shades depart:
Here's a blooming troop disdains
Love and his fantastic chains.
Sisters of the silver bow,
Pure and chaste as virgin snow,
Melt not at thy feeble fires,
Wanton god of wild desires!'
Rage and revenge divide Love's little breast,
Whilst thus the angry goddess he address'd:
Virgin snow does oft remain
Long unmelted on the plain,
Till the glorious god of day
Smiles and wastes its pride away.
What is Sol's meridian fire
To the darts of strong desire!
Love can light a raging flame
Hotter than his noontide beam.'
Now, through the forest's brown embower'd
With careless steps the young Endymion strays;
His form erect!-loose flows his lovely hair,
His glowing cheeks like youthful Hebe's fair!
His graceful limbs with ease and vigour move,
His eyes-his every feature form'd for love:
Around the listening woods attentive hung,
Whilst thus, invoking sleep, the shepherd sung-
• Where the pebbled streamlet glides
Near the woodnymph's rustic grot,
If the god of sleep resides,
Or in Pan's sequester'd cot:
Hither if he'll lightly tread,
Follow'd by a gentle dream,
We'll enjoy this grassy bed,
On the bank beside the stream.'
As on the painted turf the shepherd lies,
Sleep's downy curtain shades his lovely eyes;
And now a sporting breeze his bosom shows,
As marble smooth, and white as Alpine snows:
The goddess gazed, in magic softness bound;
Her silver bow falls useless to the ground;
Love laugh'd, and, sure of conquest, wing'd a dart,
Unerring; to her undefended heart.
She feels in every vein the fatal fire,
And thus persuades her virgins to retire-
'Ye tender maids! be timely wise,
Love's wanton fury shun;
In flight alone your safety lies;
The daring are undone.
'Do blue-eyed doves, serenely mild,
With vultures fell engage?
Do lambs provoke the lion wild,
Or tempt the tiger's rage?
No, no; like fawns, ye virgins! fly;
To secret cells remove;
Nor dare the doubtful combat try
'Twixt Chastity and Love.'
AMPHITRYON and his bride, a godlike pair!
He brave as Mars, and she as Venus fair;
On thrones of gold in purple triumph placed,
With matchless splendour held the nuptial feast:
Whilst the high roof with loud applauses rung,
Enraptured, thus, the happy hero sung-
Was mighty Jove descending
In all his wrath divine,
Enraged at my pretending
To call this charmer mine;
His shafts of bolted thunder
With boldness I'd deride:
Not Heaven itself can sunder
The hearts that love has tied.'
The thunderer heard,—he look'd with vengeance down,
Till beauty's glance disarm'd his awful frown.
The magic impulse of Aícmena's eyes
Compell'd the conquer'd god to quit his skies;
He feign'd the husband's form, possess'd her
charms,
And punish'd his presumption in her arms.
He deserves sublimest pleasure,
Who reveals it not, when won:
Beauty's like the miser's treasure;
Boast it--and the fool's undone!
Learn by this, unguarded lover,
When your secret sighs prevail,
Not to let your tongue discover
Raptures that you should conceal.
PERFORMED AT THE THEATRE IN SUNDERLAND, IN A PANTOMIME.
FROM the dark, tremendous cell,
Where the fiends of magic dwell,
Now the Sun hath left the skies,
Daughters of enchantment, rise.
[The Witches appear.
Welcome from the shades beneath!
Welcome to the blasted heath!
Where the spectre and the sprite
Glide along the glooms of night.
Beldams! with attention keen,
Wait the wish of Harlequin:
Many a wonder must be done
For my first, my favourite son.
CHORUS OF WITCHES.
Many a wonder shall be done,
Hecate, for
your favourite son.
REOPENING OF THE YORK THEATRE,
HAVING BEEN ENLARGED AND DECORATED.
ONCE on a time his earthly rounds patroling,
(Your heathen gods were always fond of strolling)
Jove rambled near the cot of kind Philemon,
When night, attended by a tempest, came on;
And as the rain fell pattering, helter-skelter,
The deity implored the hind for shelter.
Philemon placed his godship close beside him,
While goody Baucis made the fire that dried him ;
With more benevolence than one that's richer,
He spread the board, he fill'd the friendly pitcher;'
And, fond to give his guest a meal of pleasure,
Sung a rough song, in his rude country measure.
Jove was so pleased with these good-natured sal-
Philemon's cot he conjured to a palace. [lies,
Taste, like great Jupiter, came here to try us
(Oft from the boxes we perceived her spy us),
Whether she liked us and our warm endeavours,
Whether she found that we deserved her favours,
I know not: but 'tis certain she commanded
Our humble theatre should be expanded.
The orders she pronounced were scarcely ended,
But, like Philemon's house, the stage extended:
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