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She sadly creeps behind a bushy skreen,
There closely skulks to see, and not be seen.
And now the planet worshipp'd in the east
Rid on the back of the Nemean beast;
And from the inflam'd meridian, that bends
Like to a bow, his beams like arrows sends,
When this fair traveller, with heat opprest,
And the day's toils, here laid him down to rest,
Where the soft grass, and the thick trees, display'd
A flow'ry couch, and a cool arbour made.
About him round the grassy spires (in hope
To gain a kiss) their verdant heads perk'd up.
The lily, the field's candidate, there stands
A suitor for the favour of his hands:
And here the blush-dy'd amaranthus seeks,
And finds itself outrivall'd in his cheeks:
Whilst the enamoured trees, to embrace him, bend
Their shady crowns, and leafy arms extend.

Mean time from his fair front he rains a shower Of shining pearl drops, whilst his bright eyes pore On the nymph's heart, (that melts through hot de

sire

T' enjoy what she beholds) a flood of fire.

This place at length he leaves, rous'd by the call
Of the near waters' sweetly murmuring fall;
Where, on the bank his sandals off he slips,
And in the crystal streams his ankles dips;
Whilst the clear lake, as his pure feet he laves,
Feels love's warm fire mix with its colder waves:
And now, not his fair feet content alone
To kiss, desires (an amorous wanton grown)
(That she might nearer to her wish aspire)
Her bottom deeper, or her waters higher;

Which (to their power) to rise when moved seem, As if they long'd to bathe each curious limb.

The youth with pleasure on the floor doth gaze,
And in that watery glass his face surveys,
Admiring, with a look stedfastly set,
His real beauty in his counterfeit.

And sure he with himself in love had fell,
Had he not heard of fond Narcissus tell,
Who from cold streams attracting fatal fire,
Did, to enjoy what he possest, expire.
Then stooping, he with hands together clos'd,
Hollowing their joined palms, a cup compos'd
Of living alabaster; which when fill'd

With the sweet liquor the clear spring distill'd,
He gently lifts it to his head, then sips,
Both bath and beverage to his looks and lips.

Mean time with ravish'd thoughts the nymph doth view

The sportive lad, and while he drinks, drinks too,
But in a different manner; from the lake
He his, her draught she from his eyes doth take.
His slacks his thirst, her's more inflames desire,
He sucks in water, but she drinks in fire.
And now, invited by the heat, and took
With the alluring temper of the brook,
Himself disrobing, the rich spoil he throws
Away, and his pure limbs all naked shows.
And like a new Sun with a darkening cloud
Invested, casting off the envious shroud,
He round about his beauteous light displays,
And makes the Earth a Heaven with his bright rays.
The nymph at this freezes at once and burns,
And fire with love and ice with wonder turns.

At length cries out: "Ah me! what see I here?
What deity leaving his heavenly sphere

Is come to sport him in these shades? sure by
His wounding look, and his inflaming eye

It should be Love; but no light wings appear

On his fair shoulders; strange he none should wear! No; those he leant my heart; which from my breast

Its flight hath took, and now in his doth rest.

"Ah me, thou living Etna! cloth'd in snow, Yet breathing flames, how lovely dost thou show! Cruel, yet cunning archer! that my heart

Thou sure might'st hit, t' allure me with the dart."
But now from the green bank on which he stood,
Fetching his rise, he leaps into the flood;
Whose fall (as him the breaking waters take)
With a white foam all silvers o'er the lake;
Where, as he swims, and his fair arms now bends,
Now their contracted nerves again extends,
He the nymph's heart (that peeps behind an oak)
Wounds from that ivory bow at every stroke.
Into another form he then converts

The motion of his arms, and like to darts,

Now this, now that, through the clear waves does shoot.

His hand in motion answered by his foot;

For as he this contracts, he that extends,

And when this forward, that he backward sends; Whilst through the streams his purer limbs, like

snow

Or lilies through transparent crystal show;

His flowing hair, floating like that rich fleece Which the first ship from Colchos brought to Greece.

The nymph at this stands as if of sense quite

void,

Or as no sense but seeing she enjoy'd.

At last from her full breast (of its close fire The sparks) these broken accents did expire. "Oh why (as Arethusa, or the joy

Of Galatea) cannot I (sweet boy)

Melt to a flood for thee? then (my fair sun!)

Thou might'st (to bathe thee) to my bosom run." More would sh' have said: but her full passion

stopt

Her door of speech, and her eyes' floodgates op't.
Struck with despair so dead, she scarce appears
To breathe, or live, but by her sighs and tears;
Yet though her silent tongue no words impart,
Her speaking thoughts discours'd thus with her
heart.

"Fond Salmacis! why flag thy hopes? thy mind What fears deject? on; nor be e'er declin'd; But boldly thy fair enemy assail.

See! thy desired prey's within the pale :
And love (perhaps in pity of thy pain,)

Offers what was deny'd thee by disdain.

Be resolute; and him, whose conquering eyes
Made thee his captive late, now make thy prize.
Fear not; for pardon justly hope he may
Who plunders him that does deny to pay."

Thus she, rekindling her half-quench'd desires, Her cheeks with blushes, heart with boldness fires. Then forward moves a little; and anon,

Full speed, unto the lake does madly run.

But in the midst of her career repents,

And stops; suspended 'twixt two cross intents,

Like to a wavering balance: on, afraid;
Back, loath to go; and yet to either sway'd.
Now she advances; then again retreats:

Her fears now conquers, then her hopes defeats.
Struck with love's powerful thyrsus, at the last
(True Mænad like) her lighter robes off cast,
She hurries to the lake, then in she skips,
And in her wanton arms th' unwilling clips.
He, who love's fires ne'er felt in his cold breast,
With fear at such a strange surprise possess'd,
For help began to cry; when she at this,

66

Ah, peace!"

kiss.

says, and his mouth stopp'd with a

Yet struggling, he her wishes did deny,

And from her shunn'd embraces strove to fly.
But whilst he labours to get loose, t' his breast
She faster cleaves; and his lips harder prest.
So when Jove's bird a snake hath truss'd, his wings
The more that plies, the more that 'bout 'em clings;
And leaves it doubtful to the gazer's view,
To tell which more is pris'ner of the two.
Fearful to lose yet her new-gotten prize,

The nymph to Heaven (sighing) erects her eyes: "And shall my love" (says she) "triumph in vain, Nor other trophy than a bare kiss gain?

O Jove! if what fame sings of thee be true,
If e'er thou didst a bull's fierce shape indue,.
And on thy back from the Phoenician shore,
Thro' seas thy amorous theft in triumph bore,
Assist my vows; and grant that I may prove
As happy in this conquest of my love:
No force let our embraces e'er disjoin;
Breast unto breast unite; our souls entwine;

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