Fate feem'd a fair occafion to prefent;
He knew the fex, and fear'd fhe might repent,
Should he delay the moment of consent.
There yet remain'd to gain her friends (a care
The modefty of maidens well might spare);
But the with fuch a zeal the caufe embrac'd
(As women, where they will, are all in haste);
The father, mother, and the kin befide,
Were overborn by fury of the tide;
With full confent of all the chang'd her state;
Refiftless in her love, as in her hate.
Be her example warn'd, the reft beware
More eafy, lefs imperious, were the fair;
And that one hunting, which the devil defign'd
For one fair female, loft him half the kind.

Sij

POETA LOQUITUR.

OLD as I am, for ladies love unfit,
The power of beauty I remember yet.
Which once inflam'd my foul, and still infpires:
my wit.

If love be folly, the fevere divine

Has felt that folly, though he cenfures mine;
Pollutes the pleasures of a chafte embrace,
Acts what I write, and propagates in grace,
With riotous excess, a priestly race.
Suppofe him free, and that I forge th' offence,
He fhew'd the way, perverting first my sease:
In malice witty, and with venom fraught,
He makes me fpeak the things I never thought.
Compute the gains of his ungovern'd zeal;
Hl fuits his cloth the praise of railing well.
The world will think that what we loosely write,
Though now arraign'd, he read with fome de-
light;

Because he seems to chew the cud again, [plain;
When his broad comment makes the text too
And teaches more in one explaining page,
Than all the double-meanings of the stage.

What needs he paraphrafe on what we mean?
We were at worst but wanton; he's obfcene.
I not my fellows nor myfelf excufe;
But love's the fubject of the comic Muse;
Nor can we write without it, nor would you
A tale of only dry instruction view;
Nor love is always of a vicious kind,
But oft to virtuous acts inflames the mind,
Awakes the fleepy vigour of the foul,
And brushing o'er adds motion to the pool.
Love, ftudious how to please, improves our parts
With polish'd manners, and adorns with arts.
Love first invented verfe, and form'd the rhyme,
The motion meafur'd, harmoniz'd the chime;

To liberal acts enlarg'd the narrow-soul'd,
Soften'd the fierce, and made the coward bold:
The world, when wafte, he peopled with increase,
And warring nations reconcil'd in peace.
Ormond, the firft, and all the fair may find,
In this one legend, to their fame defign'd,
When beauty fires the blood, how love exalts (
exalts
the mind.

IN that sweet ifle where Venus keeps her court, And every grace, and all the loves, refort; Where either fex is form'd of fofter earth, And takes the bent of pleasure from her birth; There liv'd a Cyprian lord, above the rest Wife, wealthy, with a numerous iffue blefs'd.

But as no gift of fortune is fincere, Was only wanting in a worthy heir; His eldest born, a goodly youth to view, Excell'd the reft in fhape, and outward fhew, Fair, tall, his limbs with due proportion join'd, But of a heavy, dull, degenerate mind. His foul bely'd the features of his face; Beauty was there, but beauty in disgrace. A clownish mien, a voice with ruftic found, And ftupid eyes that ever lov'd the ground. He look'd like nature's error, as the mind And body were not of a piece defign'd, But made for two, and by miftake in one were join'd.

The ruling rod, the father's forming care, Were exercis'd in vain on wit's defpair; The more inform'd, the lefs he understood, And deeper funk by floundering in the mud. Now fcorn'd of all, and grown the public fhame, The people from Galefus chang'd his name, And Cymon call'd, which fignifies a brute; So well his name did with his nature fuit.

His corn and cattle were his only care,

And his fupreme delight, a country fair.

It happen'd on a fummer's holiday,

That to the green-wood shade he took his way; For Cymon fhunn'd the church, and us'd not ( much to pray.

His quarter ftaff, which he could ne'er forfake,
Hung half before, and half behind his back.
He trudg'd along, unknowing what he fought.
And whistled as he went for want of thought..
By chance conducted, or by thirst constrain'd,
The deep receffes of the grove he gain'd;
Where, in a plain defended by the wood,
Crept through the matted grass a crystal flood,
By which an alabaster fountain stood:
And on the margin of the fount was laid
(Attended by her flaves) a fleeping maid.
Like Dian and her nymphs, when tir'd with sport,
To reft by cool Eurotas they resort :
The dame herself the goddess well exprefs'd,
Not more diftinguifh'd by her purple veft,
Than by the charming features of her face,
And ev'n in flumber a fuperior grace:
Her comely limbs compos'd with decent care,
Her body fhaded with a flight cymarr ;
Her bofom to the view was only bare:
Where two beginning paps were fcarcely spy'd,
For yet their places were but fignify'd:
The fanning wind upon her bofom blows,
To meet the fanning wind the bofsom rose;
The fanning wind, and purling ftreams, conti-
nue her repose.

The fool of nature ftood with ftupid eyes,
And gaping mouth, that teftify'd furprise,
Fix'd on her face, nor could remove his fight,
New as he was to love, and novice to delight:
Long mute he ftood, and leaning on his staff,
His wonder witnefs'd with an idiot laugh;
Then would have spoke, but by his glimmering
fenfe

First found his want of words, and fear'd offence:
Doubted for what he was he should be known,
By his clown accent, and his country tone.
Through the rude chaos thus the running light
Shot the first ray that pierc'd the native night:
Then day and darkness in the mafs were mix'd:
Till gathered in a globe the beams were fix'd.
Laft fhone the fun, who, radiant in his sphere,
Illumin'd heaven and earth, and roll'd around the
So reafon in his brutal foul began,
[year.
Love made him firft fufpect he was a man;
Love made him doubt his broad barbarian found;
By love his want of words and wit he found;
That fenfe of want prepar'd the future way
To knowledge, and difclos'd the promife of a
day.

What not his father's care, nor tutor's art,
Could plant with pains in his unpolish'd heart,
The best instructer, love, at once inspir'd,
As barren grounds to fruitfulness are fir'd:
Love taught him fhame; and fhame, with love
at ftrife,

Soon taught the fweet civilities of life;
His grofs material foul at once could find -
Somewhat in her excelling all her kind :
Exciting a defire till then unknown,
Somewhat unfound, or found in her alone.
This made the first impreffion on his mind,
Above, but just above, the brutal kind.
For beafts can like, but not diftinguish too,
Nor their own liking by reflection know;
Nor why they like or this or t' other face,
Or judge of this or that peculiar grace;
But love in grofs, and flupidly admire:
As flies, allur'd by light, approach the fire.
Thus our man-beaft, advancing by degrees,
First likes the whole, then feparates what he fees;
On feveral parts a feveral praife bestows,
The ruby lips, the well proportion'd nofe,
The fnowy fkin, and raven-gluffy hair,
The dimpled cheek, and forehead rising fair,
And, ev'n in fleep itself, a smiling air.
From thence his eyes defcending view'd the reft,
Her plump ronnd arms, white hands, and heav
ing breaft.

Long on the last he dwelt, though every part
A pointed arrow fped to pierce his heart.

Thus in a trice a judge of beauty grown, (A judge erected from a country clown) He long'd to fee her eyes, in fumber hid, And wifh'd his own could pierce within the lid : He would have wak'd her, but restrain'd his thought,

And love new-born the firft good-manners taught.
And awful fear his ardent with, withstood,
Nor durft difturb the goddefs of the wood.
For fuch fhe feem'd by her celeftial face,
Excelling all the rest of human race,
And things divine, by common fenfe he knew,
Must be devoutly feen, at diftant view:
So checking his defire, with trembling heart
Gazing he food, nor would nor could depart;
Fix'd as a pilgrim wilder'd in his way,
Who dares not ftir by night, for fear to stray,
But ftands with awful eyes, to watch the dawn
of day.

At length awaking, Iphigene the fair
(So was the beauty call'd who caus'd his care)
Unclos'd her eyes, and double day reveal'd,
While thofe of all her flaves in fleep were feal'd.

The flavering cudden, propp'd upon his staff, Stood ready gaping with a grinning laugh, To welcome her awake; nor durft begin To speak, but wifely kept the fool within. Then the, What makes you, Cymon, here alone? (For Cymon's name was round the country know Becaufe defcended of a noble race, And for a foul ill forted with his face.)

But ftill the fut ftood filent with furprise, With fix'd regard on her new-open'd eyes,

}

And, for the wept, he wip'd her falling tears,
And pray'd her to difmifs her empty fears;
For your's I am, he said, and has deferv'd
Your love much better whom fo long I ferv'd,
Then he to whom your formal father ty'd
Your vows, and fold a flave, not fent a bride.
Thus while he spoke, he feiz'd the willing prey,
As Paris bore the Spartan fpoufe away.
Faintly the fcream'd, and ev'n her eyes confefs'd
She rather would be thought, than was distress'd.
Who now exults but Cymon in his mind ?
Vain hopes and empty joys of human kind,
Proud of the prefent, to the future blind!
Secure of fate, while Cymon plows the fea,
And fteers to Candy with his conquer'd prey,
Scarce the third glass of meafur'd hours was run.
When like a fiery meteor funk the fun;
The promise of a storm; the shifting gales
Forfake by fits, and fill the flagging fails;
Hoarfe murmurs of the main from far were heard,
And night came on, not by degrees prepar'd,
Bat all at once; at once the winds arife,
The thunders roll, the forky lightning flies.
In vain the master iffues out commands,
In vain the trembling failors ply their hands:
The tempeft unforfeen prevents their care,
And from the first they labour in despair.
The giddy ship betwixt the winds and tides,
Forc'd back, and forwards, in a circle rides,
Stunn'd with the different blows; then fhoots
amain,

Till, counterbuff'd, she stops, and sleeps again.
Not more aghaft the proud archangel fell,
Plung'd from the height of heaven to deepest hell,
Than flood the lover of his love poffefs'd,

Now curs'd the more, the more he had been blefs'd;

More anxious for her danger than his own,
Death he defies; but would be loft alone.

Sad Iphigene to womanish complaints
Adds pious prayers, and wearies all the faints;
Ev'n if the could, her love he would repent,
But, fince he cannot, dreads the punishment;
Her forfeit faith and Pafimond betray'd,
Are ever prefent, and her crime upbraid.
She blames herself, nor blames her lover lefs,
Augments her anger, as her fears increase :
From her own back the burden would renove,
And lays the load on his ungovern'd love,
Which interpofing durft, in heaven's despite,
Invade, and violate another's right :
The powers incens'd a while deferr'd his pain,
And made him mafter of his vows in vain:
But foon they punish'd his prefumtuous pride;
That for his daring enterprise the dy'd;
Who rather not refifted, than comply'd.

Then, impotent of mind, with alter'd fenfe,
She hugg'd th' offender, and forgave th' offence,
Sex to the laft, mean time with fails declin'd
The wondering veffel drove before the wind:
Tofs'd and retofs'd, aloft, and then below,
Nor port they feek, nor certain course they
know,

But every moment wait the coming blow.

Thus blindly driven, by breaking day they view’đ
The land before them, and their fears renew'd;
The land was welcome, but the tempest bore
The threaten'd fhip against a rocky fhore.

A winding bay was near; to this they bent,
And juft efcap'd; their force already spent :
Secure from forms, and panting from the fea,
The land unknown at leifure they furvey;
And faw (but foon their fickly fight withdrew)
The rifing towers of Rhodes at diftant view;
And curs'd the hoftile fhore of Pasimond,
Sav'd from the feas, and shipwreck'd on the ground.
The frighted failors try'd their ftrength in

vain

To turn the ftern, and tempt the formy main;
But the fliff wind withflood the labouring oar,
And forc'd them forward on the fatal fhore!
The crooked keel now bites the Rhodian strand,
And the fhip moor'd constrains the crew to land:
Yet ftill they might be safe, because unknown,
But, as ill fortune feldom comes alone,
The veffel they difmifs'd was driven before,
Already shelter'd on their native shore ;
Known each, they know; but each with change
of cheer;

The vanquish'd fide exults; the victors fear;
Not them but theirs, made prifoners e'er they fight,
Defpairing conquest, and depriv'd of flight.

The country rings around with loud alarms,
And raw in fields the rude militia fwarms;
Mouths without hands, maintain'd at vaft expence,
In peace a charge, in war a weak defence :
Stout once a month they march, a blustering band,
And ever, but in times of need, at hand;
This was the morn when, iffuing on the guard,
Drawn up in rank and file they ftood prepar'd
Of feeming arms to make a fhort effay,
Then haften to be drunk, the business of the day.
The cowards would have fled, but that they
knew

Themselves fo many, and their foes fo few:
But, crowding on, the laft the first impel:
Till overborn with weight the Cyprians fell,
Cymon enflav'd, who firft the war begun,
And Iphigene once more is loft and won.

Deep in a dungeon was the captive cast,
Depriv'd of day, and held in fetters faft:
His life was only fpar'd at their request,
Whom taken he fo nobly had releas'd:
But Iphigenia was the ladies' care,

Each in their turn addrefs'd to treat the fair;
While Pafimond and his the nuptial feast pre-

pare.

Her fecret foul to Cymon was inclin'd, But the muft füffer what her fates affign'd; So paffive is the church of womankind. What worse to Cymon could his fortune deal, Roll'd to the lowest spoke of all her wheel? It refted to difmifs the downward weight, Or raise him upward to his former height, The latter pleas'd; and love (concern'd the mol) Prepar'd th' amends, for what by love he lost. The fire of Pafimond had left a fon, Though younger, yet for courage early known,