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Around it, mingled in a solemn band,
| With open arms, Asteria shall receive Let Phæbe's lovers, and Asteria's stand,
The dearest pledge propitious Heaven can give. With fervent vows t'attend the sacrifice;
Fann'd by these winds, your friendship's generous While rich perfumes from melted gums arise,
fire To bribe for Phæbe's health the partial skies. Shall burn more bright, and to such heights aspire,
Forbid it, Love, that sickly blasts consume The wondering world shall think you from above The tower of beauty in its tender bloom!
Come down to teach how happy angels love.
To wound th' unwary maid he thought,
But soon became her conquest too. (As Beauty's goddess once a wound sustain'd, Not from her son, but from a mortal's hand)
He dropp'd, half drawn, his feeble bow, Asteria too forgets her sprightly charms,
He look’d, he rav'd, and sighing pin'd; And drooping lies within her Phoebe's arms.
And wish'd in vain he had been now, Thus in romantic histories we read
As painters falsely draw him, blind.
Disarm’d, he to his mother flies;
For Love himself's, alas! undone.
To Cupid now no lover's prayer
My darts are gone, but oh! beware,
TO OCTAVIA INDISPOSED.
Around your couch whilst sighing lovers view That heavenly pair, by turns they liv'd and dy'd : Wit, beauty, goodness, suffering all in you; But these have sworn a matchless sympathy, So mournful is the scene, 'tis hard to tell They'll live together, or together die.
Which face betrays the sick, or who is well. When Heaven did at Asteria's birth bestow
They feel not their own pains, while yours they share, Those lavish charms, with which she wounds us so, Worse tortur'd now, than lately by despair. To form her glorious mind, it did inspire
For bleeding veins a like relief is found, A double portion of th' ethereal tire,
When iron red-hot by burning stops the wound, That half might afterward be thence convey'd, “Grant, Heaven,” they cry, “this moment our des To animate that other lovely maid.
Tosce her well, though we the next expire.” (sire, Thus native instinct does their hearts combine, In knots too close for Fortune to untwine. So India boasts a tree, that spreads around
BEAUTY AND MUSIC,
Ye swains, whom radiant Beauty moves,
Or Music's art with sounds divine,
Think how the rapturous charm improves, Fed by one sap, and in each other live.
Where two such gifts celestial join; Of Phæbe'health we need not send to know
Where Cupid's bow, and Phæbus' lyre, How Nature strives with her invading foe,
In the saine powerful hand are found; What symptoms good or ill each day arise;
Where lovely eyes inflame desire, We read those changes in Asteria's eyes.
While trembling notes are taught to wound,
e what black clouds arise. when tempests lower. That can this double death bestow :
Such be thy fate, bright majd! from this decline
CUPID, survey thy shining train around
Of favourite nymphs, for conquest most renown'd; The Muse shall lay her presents at thy feet;
The lovely warriors that in bright array
Then say, what beauteous general wilt thou choose, * Diomedes Castor and Pollux. To lead the fair brigade against thy rebel foes?
Behold the god advance in comely pride, Thus ancient legends would our faith abuse: Asm'd with his bow, his quiver by his side:
In vain--for were the bold tradition true, Inferior Cupids on their master wait;
While your harmonious touch that charm renews, He smiles well pleas'd, and waves his wings in state. Again the scraph would appear to you. His little hands imperial trophies bear,
O happy fair! in whom, with purest light, And laurel-wreaths to grace th' elected fair.
Virtue's united beams with beauty shine!
Je mourrai de trop de plaisir,
Si je la trouve favourable; To Love's pre-eminence, and Beauty's fame.
Je mourrai de trop de desir, Some, who, at Anna's court, in honour rais'd,
Se je la trouve inexorable, Adorn birth-nights, by crowding nations prais'd;
| Ainsi je ne sçaurois guerir Preserv'd in kneller's pictures ever young,
De la douleur qui me possede ; In strains immortal by the Muses sung.
Je suis assuré de perir
Par le inal, ou par le remcde.
If she I love rewards my fire;
If she's inexorably coy, Tall, beauteous, and majestic to the sigant,
With too much passion I expire. She led the train, and sparkled in the light.
No way the Fates afford to shun
By the disease, or by the cure.
TO A PAINTER.
"Twere endless to describe the various darts, Painter, if thou canst safely gaze With which the fair are arm'd to conquer hearts, On all the wonders of that face; Whatever can the ravish'd soul inspire
If thou hast charms to guard a heart With tender thoughts, and animate desire,
Secure by secrets of thy art; All arts and virtues mingled in the train;
0! teach the inighty charm, that we
To what then wilt thou next aspire,
He scarce had spoke, when see Harmonia caine! Though 'twas for that Salmoneus dy'd,
Whose chains so many lovers wear;
She sits serene, and smiles on you!
Your genius thus inspir'd will soar
So when of old great Ammon's son,
In graceful picture chose to stand,
The work of fam'd Apelles' hand;
“ Exert thy fire,” the monarch said, PLAYING ON THE ORGAN.
“ Now be thy boldest strokes display'd, W new fam'd Cecilia on the organ play'd,
To let admiring nations see
To others thou may'st life impart,
Descending angels, in harmonious lays,
Taught the first happy pair their Maker's praise.
Such was the sacred art-We now deplore
The Muse's loss, since Eden is no more.
When Vice from hell rear'd up its hydra-head,
Th' affrighted maid, with chaste Astrea, fled, As wlien Camilla once, a warlike dame,
And sought protection in her native sky; In bloody battles won immortal fame,
In vain the heathen Nine her absence would supply. Forsook her female arts, and chose to bear
Yet to somc few, whose dazzling virtues shone, The ponderous shield, and heave the massy spear, In ages past, her heavenly charms were known. Superior to her sex, so swift she flew
Hence learn'd the bard, in lofty strains to tell Around the fiell, and such vast numbers slew, How patient Virtue triumph'd over Hell; That friends and foes, alike surpris'd, behold
And hence the chief, who led the chosen race The brave Virago desperately bold,
Through parting seas, deriv'd his songs of praise : And thought her Pallas in a human mould.
She gave the rapturous ode, whose ardent lay Such is our wonder, matchless maid! to see
Sings female force, and vanquish'd Sisera; The tragic laurel thus deserv'd by thee.
She tun'd to pious notes the psalmist's lyre, (fire! Still greater praise is yours; Camilla shines And fill'd Isaiah's breast with more than Pindar's For ever bright in Virgil's sacred lines, You in your own. Nor need you to another's bounty owe, For what yourself can on yourself bestow;
· SONG, So monarchs in full health are wont to rear, At their own charge, their future sepulchre.
WRITTEN FOR THE LATE DUKE OP GLOUCESTER'S Who thy perfections fully would commend,
WHILE Venus in her snowy arms
The god of battles held,
And sooth'd him with her tender charms, And sing an empty song, the most they know;
Victorious from the field; In body weak, more impotent of mind.
By chance she cast a lovely smile,
Propitious, down to Earth,
Great Gloucester's glorious birth.
“Look, Mars," she said; “ look down, and see Establish'd female clain, and triminph'd o'er our
A child of royal race!
With every princely grace:
Thy heavenly image let me bear, Such dazzling charms, and, spite of envy, love.
And shine a Mars below; Nor is this all th' applause that is your duc,
| Form you his mind to warlike care, You stand the first of stage-reformers too;
I'll softer gifts bestow."
Thus at his birth two deities
And love was breathi'd into his eyes, Your virgin voice oflends no virgin ear.
And glory form'd bis heart. Proceed in tragic numbers to disclose
His childhood makes of war a game; Strange turns of fate, and unexpected wocs.
Betimes his beauty charms
The fair; u ho burnd with equal fame
ON A PEACOCK,
FINELY CUT IN VELLUM BY MOLINDA
W es Fancy did Molinda's hand invite, 1698.
Without the help of colour, shade, or light,
The fairest image of the feather'd kind;
Nature herself a strict attendance paid,
Charm'd with th'attainments of th'illustrious maid, Is Vature's golden age, when new-born day Inspir'd her thought, and, smiling, said, “I'll see Array'd the skies, and Earth was green and gay; How well this fair-one's art can copy inc." When God, with pleasure, all his works survey'd, So to her favourite Titian once she came, Ant virgin innocence before lim plavidl;
To guide his pencil, and attest his fame, Ju tha illustrious morn, that lovely spring, With transport granting all that she could give, The viuse, by Heaven inspir’d, began to sing. | And bid his works to wondering ages live.
Nor with less transport here the goddess sees Her rural slaves their absent victor mourn,
The conquer'd countries droop, while she's away, It seem'd a new creation of her own;
And slowly to the Spring their contribution pay. She starts, to view the finish'd figure rise,
While cooing turtles, doubly now alone, And spread his ample train, enrich'd with eyes; With their lost loves another loss bemoan. To see, with lively grace, lais form express'd,
Mean time in peopled cities crowds press on, The stately honours of his rising crest,
And jealous seem who shall be first undone.
O matchless bird! whose race, with nicest care, Hears daily conquests which she ne'er design'd,
WRITTEN IN A LADY'S PRAYER-BOOR. Soon as thy rising glories strike our eyes, Their beauty shines no more, their lustre dies. So fair a form, with such devotion join'd! So when Molinda, with superior charms,
A virgin body, and a spotless mind! Dazzles the ring, and other nymphs disarms, Pleas'd with her prayers, while Heaven propitious To her the rallying Loves and Graces fly,
The lovely votress on her bended knees,
(sees And, fixing there, proclaim the victory. No wonder, then, since she was born t' excel,
Sure it must think some angel lost its way, This bird's fair image she describes so well,
And happening on our wretched Earth to stray, Happy, as in some temple thus to stand,
Tir'd with onr follies, fajn would take its flight, Immortaliz'd by her successful hand.
And begs to be restor'd to those blest realms of light
ODE ON THE SPRING.
FOR THE MONTH OF MAY.
WANTON Zephyr, come away!
On this sweet, this silent grove, In bappy strains their pleasing dreams,
Sacred to the Muse and Love, Some Mase unseen to crown their verse,
In gentle whisper'd murmurs play! And boast of Heliconian streams:
Come, let thy soft, thy balmy breeze
Diffuse thy vernal sweets around But here, a real Muse inspires
From sprouting flowers, and blossom'd trees; (Who more reviving streams imparts)
While hills and echoing vales resound Our fancies with the poets' fires,
With notes, which wing'd musicians sing And with a nobler flame our hearts.
In honour to the bloom of Spring. While from her hand each honourd guest
Lovely season of desire! Receives his cup with liquor crown'd,
Nature smiles with joy to see He thinks 'tis Jove's immortal feast,
The amorous Months led on by thee, And Venus deals the nectar round.
That kindly wake her genial fire
The brightest object in the skies, As o'er cach fountain, poets sing,
The fairest lights that shine below, Some lovely guardian-nymph has sway,
The Sun, and Mira's charining eyes, Who from the consecrated spring,
At thy return more charming grow: Wild beasts and satyrs drives away;
With double glory they appear,
To warm and grace the infant Year.
ODE 111. BOOK III.
| The design of this ode was to insinuate to Augustus Who only then had dy'd for her.
the danger of transferring the seat of the empire January 1, 1701.
from Rome to Troy, which we are informed hé
once entertained thoughts of.
The man to right inflexibly inclin'd,
Poising on virtue's base his mind,
Rests in himself secure,
Indissolubly firm in good ;
All rock within, he can unmoy'd endure
The foaming fury of the flood, That loath subjection, and would brcak their chain, ( When bellowing winds their jarring troops cuigage,
Or wasteful civil tumults roll along
I“ Let Rome extend her fame to every shore;
And let no banks or mounds restrain
Th’impetuous torrent of her wide command;
The seas from Europe, Africk part in vain; Let a proud tyrant cast a killing frown;
Swelling above those floods, her power
Shining in polish'd steel, she dares
The glittering beams of gold despise,
Gold, the great source of human cares,
Hid wisely deep from mortal eyes,
Till, sought in evil hour by hands unblest,
Opening the dark abodes,
There issued forth a direful train of woes,
That give mankind no rest;
No native human uses knows.
" Where'er great Jove did place With these, Augustus shal) for ever shine,
'The bounds of Nature yet unseen, And stain his rosy lips in cups divine.
He meant a goal of glory to the race Thus his fierce tigers dauntless Bacchus bear;
The Roman arms shall win: The glaring savages resist in vain,
Rejoicing, onward they approach Impatient of the bit, and fretting on the rein;
To view the outworks of the world, Through yielding clouds he drives th'impetuous car.
The maddening fires, in wild debauch, [whirld! Great Romulus pursued the shining trace,
The snows and rains unborn, in endless eddies
“ 'Tis I, O Rome, pronounce these fates behind, And with his father's horses scour'd the same bright But will thy reign with this condition bind, airy race.
That no false filial piety, Then in full senate of the deities,
In idle shapes deluding thee,
Or confidence of power,
Tempt thee again to raise a Trojan tower;
Troy, plac'd beneath malignant stars,
Haunted with omens still the same,
Rebuilt, shall but renew the former flame,
Jove's wife and sister leading on the wars.
Thrice let her shine with brazen walls,
Rear'd up by heavenly hands:
And thrice in fatal dust she falls,
By faithful Grecian bands;
Thrice the dire scene shall on the world return,'
And captive wives again their sons and husbands And offer'd wrong to me.
mourn.” No more the treacherous ravisher
But stop, presumptuous Muse, thy daring flight, Shines in full pomp and youthful charms;
Nor hope in thy weak lyric lay, Nor Priam's impious house with Hector's spear,
The heavenly language to display, Repels the violence of Grecian arms.
Or bring the counsels of the gods to light. “ Our feuds did long embroil the mortal rout,
At last the storm is spent,
| Tue Paphian isle was once the blest abode To Mars I grant among the stars a place
Of Beauty's goddess and her archer-god. For his son Romulus, of Trojan race;
There blissful bowers and amorous shades were seen, Here shall he dwell in these divine abodes,
Pair cypress walks, and myrtles ever green,
'Twas there, surrounded by a hallow'd wood, And in this shining court his name enrol,
Sacred to Love, a splendid temple stood; With the serene and ever-vacant gods: Where altars were with costly gums perfum'd, While seas shall rage between his Rome and Troy. And lovers sighs arose, and smoke from hearts conThe horrid distance breaking wide,
sum'd: The banish'a Trojans shall the globe enjoy, Till, thence remov'd, the queen of beauty flies And reign in every place beside;
To Britain, fam'd for bright victorious eyes. · While beasts insult my judge's ' dust, and hide Here fix'd, she chose a sweeter seat for Love, Their litter in his cursed tomb,
And Greenwich-park is now her Cyprian grove. The shining Capitol of Rome
Nor fair Parnassus with this hill can vie, Shall overlook the world with awful pride, (dome. | Which gently swells into the wondering sky, And Parthjans take their law from that eternal Commanding all that can transport our sight,
And varying with each view the fresh delight 6 Romulus was supposed to be the son of Mars From hence my Muse prepares to wing her way, by the priestess Ida,
| And wanton,like the Thames, through smiling meads Helen. • Paris. Paris.