EPISTLE VI. THE CONSOLATION.

HERMOCRATES TO EUPHORION.t
Says a girl to her nurse, “ I've a tale to unfold,

Of utmost concern to us both;
But first you must swear not to blab when you're told."

—Nurse greedily swallow'd the oath.
“ I've lost, my dear mother," the innocent said,

“What should be a virgin's chief pride." — I wish you had seen what a face the dame made,

And heard how she blubber'd and cried. “Hush, for God's sake," says Miss, in a whispering tone,

“The people will hear you within ; You have sworn to discover my secret to none,

Then why such a horrible din ? “My virtue long all opposition withstood,

And scorn'd at Love's efforts to flinch; It retreated at last—but as slow as it could,

Disputing the ground inch by inch.
“In vain to my aid did I reason invoke;

Young Cupid no reason could quell;
He'd got root in my heart, and there grew like an oak,

So I fell--but reluctantly fell.
“ Yet surely young Lysias has charms to betray;

Too charming, alas, to be true!
But you never heard the soft things he can say-

Ah! would I had ne'er heard them too :
“For now that the spoiler has robb’d me of all

My innocent heart used to prize,
He cruelly mocks at my tears as they fall-

The tears he has drawn from my eyes."
“ You've play'd a sad game," cries the matron, aghast;

“Besides, you disgrace my gray head : But since no reflections can alter what's past,

Cheer up—there's no more to be said. * This Epistle describes the distress of a girl who has been debauched, with the consolation of the good old woman her nurse.

"

“ Cheer up, child, I say; why there's no such great crime;

Sure I too have met with false men :
I've known what it was to be trick'd in my time;

But I know too-tọ trick them again.
But do so no more ; lest, should you be rash,

Your apron-strings pubiish your tricks :
Your father, I hope, has a round sum of cash,

And soon on your husband will fix.
“ Some innocent swain, (if such innocence be !)

Unskill'd in the myst'ries of love;
Whose gallantry ne'er went 'yond Phyllis's knee,

Or fast'ning the garter above.
“My humble petition may Jupiter hear,

And grant that you quickly may wed." “ So at present, dear mother, I've nothing to fear

No tale-telling urchin to dread?"
“ You're safe, my dear daughter, I fancy, as yet;

And when at the altar you're tied,
I'll teach you a method your husband to cheat,

For a virgin, as well as a bride."

EPISTLE VII.*

THE DISAPPOINTMENT.

CYRTION TO DICTYS.

a

a

LATE as upon the rocky strand

Alone the death-barb'd bait I threw,
Just as I tow'd a fish to land,

Which almost broke my line in two-
Comes a fair maid, whose native bloom

The tinct of art excell'd as far,
As the wild fruits of Nature's womb

Beyond the hotbed's produce are.
This prize is better than my fish,

Thought I—'tis sure a lucky day.-
“ I want to bathe, sir, and I wish

You'd watch my clothes while I'm away."

* Epistle VII.] A disagreeable end to a pleasing rencontre.

“Yes, yes,” I eagerly replied,

In hopes her naked charms to spy,
“ I'll watch your clothes, and by their side

My faithful little dog shall lie."
She bow'd, and doff'd her mantle blue;

Good heavens ! what beauties struck my sight: Thus morn's sweet ruddy skies I view,

Fresh from the midst of lágging night. Bright polish'd arms, a neck of snow,

Through locks of lovely jet were seen; Which by their blackness seem'd to throw

An added lustre on her skin. Two rising globules at her breast,

Whose swelling throb was such, They seem'd upheaving to be prest,

And sued impatient for the touch. The wind was hush'd, the sea was calm,

And in she leap'd, and plough'd the tide The froth that bubbled as she swam,

Lost all its whiteness by her side.
But soon the wave's impetuous gush

Dash'd o'er her form a crimson hue;
She blush'd—you've seen the rosebud blush

Beneath its morning coat of dew.
Askance she view'd the watery space,

Her neck averted from the tide, As if old Ocean's cold embrace

Would shock her modest virgin-pride. Each pressing wave, that seem'd to try

With am'rous haste her limbs to kiss, With coy rebuke she patted by ;

Rebuked-but never could dismiss. Still as she stemm'd her liquid way,

Thought I, a Nereid 'tis that laves : And when she tired, and left her play,

a

The while her dripping locks she wrung,

And spread them to the fanning wind.
Quick to present her clothes I rush,

And towards her stretch my longing arnis.
But she repulsed me with a blush-

A blush that added to her charms.
Rage would have sparkled in her eyes;}

Yet still they twinkled lovely sweet :
As suns in farthest distant skies

Emit their light without their heat.
Her robe she snatch'd, and round her waist

The azure mantle instant threw.-
“ I'm sorry, sir, I'm in such haste;

I thank you-but must bid adieu.”
I gently press'd her hand ;-she frown'd;

Yet took she not her hand away :
I kiss'd her hand-she turn'd around

To hide what conscious smiles betray.
At length she broke my rod and net;

Into the sea my capture toss'd :
Then left me vainly to regret

The fish I'd caught, and her I lost.

EPISTLE VIII. FROM THE GROOM OF A KNIGHT

IN LOVE.*

ECHEPOLUS TO MELESIPPUS.
“Oh! the grace, the art to rein
Fiery coursers round the plain !
See
yon

valiant hero ride,
Skilld with either hand to guide:
See how beautiful and strong!
See how swift he glides away!
Sure fell Cupid's arrowy storm
Ne'er assaild that blooming form.

This is an odd subject.-While a gentleman was riding on horse-back his groom, struck with his beauty, was exclaiming that sure so glorious a form could never have been in love. This the master overhears, and in. forms his groom to the contrary ; who writes an account of the transaction to his friend.

No—'tis sure Adonis fair,
All the nymphs' peculiar care."
Speaking thus, the cavalier
Chanced my words to overhear.
“ Hush," said he, “thy words are vain :
Love alone can guide the rein.
Love impels, through me, the steed,
Nerves my arm, and fires my speed :
Quick as lightning though we run,
Still dread Cupid urges on.
Mount yon car, begin thy strain
Songs best suit the lover's pain.”
I submitted and from him
Took at once the sudden theme.
“Little reck'd I, hapless lord,
Cupid's shaft thy heart had gored:
If so fair a form as thine
Can with hopeless passion pine,
By the Cyprian queen I swear,
All the Loves fell tyrants are.
Yet be't thine to brave the smart,
Boldly bear the tingling dart :-
Well might they disturb your rest,
Who could pierce their mother's breast."

EPISTLE IX.+ THE SLIP.

STESICHORUS TO ERATOSTHENES.

A LADY walking in the street
Her lover lately chanced to meet :
But dared not speak when he came nigh,
Nor make a sign, nor wink her eye,
Lest watchful spouse should see or hear:
And servants too were in the rear.
A plea she sought to stop his walk,
To touch his hand, to hear him talk :
A plea she sought, nor sought in vain ;

A lucky scheme inspired her brain.
Who could pierce, &c.] “Et majores tuos irreverenter pulsasti toties

, et ipsam matrem tuam, me inquam ipsam, parricida, denudas quotidie." APOL. MIL, V.

+ Epistle IX. contains the stratagem of a lady who wanted to speak to her lover in the presence of her husbana and servants.

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