1 ftrip my body of my fhepherd's frock :
Behold that dreadful downfall of a rock,
Where yon old fifher views the waves from high!
'Tis that convenient leap I mean to try.

You would be pleas'd to fee me plunge to fhore,
But better pleas'd if I fhould rife no more.
I might have read my fortune long ago,
When, feeking my fuccefs in love to know,
1 try'd th' infallible prophetic way,
A poppy-leaf upon my palm to lay :

I ftruck, and yet no lucky crack did follow;
Yet I ftruck hard, and yet the leaf lay hollow:
And which was worse, if any worfe could prove,
The withering leaf forefhew'd your withering
love.

Yet farther (ah, how far a lover dares!)
My last recourse I had to fieve and sheers;
And told the witch Agreo my disease:
Agreo, that in harvest us'd to leafe :

But harvest done, to chare-work did afpire;
Meat, drink, and two-pence, was her daily hire.
To work fhe went, her charms fhe mutter'd o'er,
And yet the refty fieve wagg'd ne'er the more
wept for woe, the testy beldame fwore,
And, foaming with her God, foretold my fate;
That I was doom'd to love, and you to hate.
A milk-white goat for you I did provide;
Two milk-white kids ran frifking by her fide,
For which the nut-brown lafs, Erithacis,
Full often offer'd many a favoury kifs.
Hers they fhall be, fince you refuse the price :
What madman would o'erftand his market

twice!

Hippomenes, who ran with noble ftrife
To win his lady, or to lofe his life,

| (What shift fome men will make to get à wife! Threw down a golden apple in her way;

For all her hafte fhe could not choose but stay:
Renown faid, Run; the glittering bribe cry'd,
Hold;

The man might have been hang'd, but for his gold.
Yet fome fuppofe 'twas Love (fome few indeed)
That ftopt the fatal fury of her speed:
She faw, the figh'd; her nimble feet refufe
Their wonted fpeed, and she took pains to lose.
A Prophet fome, and fome a Poet cry,
(No matter which, fo neither of them lie)
From steepy Othrys' top to Pylus drove
His herd; and for his pains enjoy'd his love:
If fuch another wager fhould be laid,
I'll find the man, if you can find the maid.
Why name I men, when Love extended finds
His power on high, and on celeftial minds;
Venus the fhepherd's homely habit took,
And manag'd fomething elfe befides the crook:
Nay, when Adonis died, was heard to roar,
And never from her heart forgave the boar.
How bleft was fair Endymion with his Moon,
Who fleeps on Latmos' top from night to noon!
What Jafon from Medea's love poffett,
You fhall not hear, but know 'tis like the rest.
My aking head can scarce support the pain;
This curfed love will furely turn my brain:
Feel how it shoots, and yet you take no pity;
Nay then 'tis time to end my doleful ditty.
A clammy sweat does o'er my temples creep;
My heavy eyes are urg'd with iron fleep:
I lay me down to gasp my latest breath,
The wolves will get a breakfast by my death;
Yet scarce enough their hunger to supply,
For Love has made me carrion e'er I die.

Bb

}

Ere yet the ftars are kindled in the sky,
Ere twilight fhades, or evening dews are shed,
Why dost thou fteal fo foon away to bed?
Has Somnus brush'd thy eye-lids with his rod,
Or do thy legs refufe to bear their load,
With flowing bowls of a more generous God?
If gentle flumber on thy temples creep,
(But, naughty man, thou dofl not mean to fleep)
Betake thee to thy bed, thou drowzy drone,
Sleep by thyfelf, and leave thy bride alone:
Go, leave her with her maiden mates to play,
At fports more harmless till the break of day:

Give us this evening; thou haft morn and night,
And all the year before thee, for delight.
O happy youth! to thee, among the crowd,
Of rival princes, Cupid fneez'd aloud;
And every lucky omen fent before,

To meet thee landing on the Spartan fhore.
Of all our heroes thou canst boast alone,
That Jove, whene'er he thunders, calls thee fon:
Betwixt two fheets thou shalt enjoy her bare,
With whom no Grecian virgin can compare;
So foft, fo fweet, fo balmy, and so fair.
A boy, like thee, would make a kingly line:
But oh, a girl like her muft be divine.
Her equals, we, in years, but not in face,
Twelvefcore viragoes of the Spartan race,
While naked to Eurota's banks we bend,
And there in manly exercife contend,
When she appears, are all eclips'd and loft,
And hide the beauties that we made our boast.
So, when the night and winter disappear,
The purple morning, rifing with the year,
Salutes the spring, as her celeftial eyes
Adorn the world, and brighten all the skies:
So beauteous Helen fhines among the reft,
Tall, flender, ftraight, with all the Graces bleft.
As pines the mountains, or as fields the corn,
Or as Theffalian feeds the race adorn;

Go roly-colour'd Helen is the pride
Of Lacedæmon, and of Greece befide.
Like her no nymph can willing offers bend
la basket-works, which painted streaks com-
mend:...

With Pallas in the loom she may contend.
But none, ah! none can animate the lyre,>>
And the mute ftrings with vocal fouls infpire;
Whether the learn'd Minerva be her theme,
Or chafte Diana bathing in the stream:
None can record their heavenly praise so welk
As Helen, in whofe eyes ten thousand Cupids
dwell,

O fair, O graceful! yet with maids inroll'd,

But whom to-morrow's fun a matron fhall behold
Yet ere to-morrow's fun fhall fhew his head,
The dewy paths of meadows we will tread,
For crowns and chaplets to adorn thy head.
Where all shall weep and with for thy return,
As bleating lambs their absent mother mourn.
Our noble maids fhall to thy name bequeath
The boughs of Lotos, form'd into a wreath.
This monument, thy maiden beauty's due,
High on a plane-tree fhall be hung to view :

On the fmooth rind the passenger fhall fee
Thy name engrav'd, and worship Helen's tree
Balm, from a filver box diftill'd around, [ground.
Shall all bedew the roots, and scent the facred
The balm, 'tis true, can aged plants prolong,
But Helen's name will keep it ever young.
Hail bride, hail bridegroom, fon-in-law to Jove!
With fruitful joys Latona blefs your love;
Le: Venus furnish you with full defires,
Add vigour to your wills, and fuel to your fires:
Almighty Jove augment your wealthy store,
Give much to you, and to his grandfons more.
From generous loins a generous race will spring,
Each girl, like her, a queen; each boy, like you,
a king.

Now fleep, if fleep you can; but while you reft,
Sleep clofe, with folded arms, and breast to breaft:
Rife in the morn; but oh! before you rife,
Forget not to perform your morning facrifice.
We will be with you ere the crowing cock
Salutes the light, and ftruts before his feather'd
flock.

Hymen, oh Hymen, to thy triumphs run,

And view the mighty spoils thou hast in battle won.

WITH inaufpicious love, a wretched fwain
Purfued the fairefl nymph of all the plain;
Fairest indeed, but prouder far than fair,
She plung'd him hopeless in a deep despair:
Her heavenly form,too haughtily the priz'd,
His perfon hated, and his gifts defpis'd;
Nor knew the force of Cupid's cruel darts,
Nor fear'd his awful power on human hearts;
But either from her hopeless lover fled,
Or with disdainful glances fhot him dead.
No kifs, no look, to cheer the drooping boy;
No word fhe spoke, fhe fcorn'd ev'n to deny.
But, as a hunted panther cafts about

[fcout,

Her glaring eyes, and pricks her liftening ears to
So fhe, to fhun his toils, her cares employ'd,
And fiercely in her favage freedom joy'd.

Her fallow cheeks her envious mind did fhew, And every feature spoke aloud the curftnefs of a fhrew,

Yet could not he his obvious fate escape:
His love ftill drefs'd her in a pleafing shape;
And every fullen frown, and bitter fcorn,
But fann'd the fuel that too faft did burn.
Long time, unequal to his mighty pain,
He ftrove to curb it, but he rove in vain :
At laft his woes broke out, and begg'd relief
With tears, the dumb petitioners of grief:
With tears fo tender as adorn'd his love,
And any heart, but only hers, would move.
Trembling before her bolted doors he flood,
And there pour'd out th' unprofitable flood:
Staring his eyes, and haggard was his look;

frown,

Her eyes to fparkle fires to love unknown;

Ah nymph, more cruel than of human race! Thy tigres heart belics thy angel face : Bbj

Too well thou fhew'dft thy pedigree from stone:
Thy grandame's was the firft by Pyrrha thrown:
Unworthy thou to be fo long defir'd;
But fo my love, and so my fate requir'd.
I beg not now (for 'tis in vain) to live;
But take this gift, the last that I can give.
This friendly cord fhall foon decide the ftrife
Betwixt my lingering love and loathfome life:
This moment puts an end to all my pain;
I fhall no more defpair, nor thou difdain.
Farewell, ungrateful and unkind! I go
Condemn'd by thee to those fad fhades below.
I go th' extremeft remedy to prove,
To drink oblivion, and to drench my love:
There happily to lofe my long defires:

But ah! what draught fo deep to quench my fires?
Farewell, ye never opening gates, ye ftones,
And threshold guilty of my midnight moans.
What I have fuffer'd here, ye know too well;
What I fhall do, the Gods and I can tell.
The rofe is fragrant, but it fades in time;
The violet fweet, but quickly past the prime;
White lilies hang their heads, and foon decay,
And whiter fnow in minutes melts away:
Such is your blooming youth, and withering fo:
The time will come, it will, when you fhall
know

The rage of love; your haughty heart fhall burn
In flames like mine, and meet a like return.
Obdurate as you are, oh! hear at least
My dying prayers, and grant my last request.
When first you ope your doors, and paffing by
The fad ill omen'd object meets your eye,
Think it not loft, a moment if you ftay;
The breathlefs wretch, fo made by you, furvey:
Some cruel pleure will from thence arife,
To view the mighty ravage of your eyes.
I wifh (but oh! my wifh is vain, I fear)
The kind oblation of a falling tear:

Then locfe the knot, and take me from the place,
And fpread your mantle o'er my grizly face;

Upon my livid lips beftow a kifs:

O envy not the dead; they feel not bliss!
Nor fear your kisses can restore my breath;
Ev'n you are not more pityless than death.
Then for my corpse a homely grave provide,
Which love and me from public fcorn may hide.
Thrice call upon my name, thrice beat your
breast,

And hail me thrice to everlasting reft :
Laft, let my tomb this fad inscription bear:

A wretch, whom love has kill'd, lies buried O paffengers, Aminta's eyes beware. [here

Thus having faid, and furious with his love, He heav'd with more than human force to move A weighty ftone (the labour of a team), And rais'd from thence he reach'd the neighbouring beam :

Around its bulk a sliding knot he throws,

And fitted to his neck the fatal noofe;
Then spurning backward, took a fwing, till death
Crept up, and ftopt the paffage of his breath.
The bounce burft ope the door: the scornful fair
Relentless look'd, and faw him beat his quivering
feet in air;

Nor wept his fate, nor caft a pitying eye,
Nor took him down, but brufh'd regardless by:
And, as she past, her chance or fate was fuch,
Her garments touch'd the dead, polluted by the
touch:

Next to the dance, thence to the bath did move;
The bath was facred to the God of Love;
Whofe injur'd image, with a wrathful eye,
Stood threatening from a pedestal on high:
Nodding a while, and watchful of his blow,
He fell, and falling, crush'd th' ungrateful nymph

below:

OF LUCRETIUS.

DELIGHT of human kind, and Gods above,
Parent of Rome, propitious Queen of Love,
Whofe vital power, air, earth, and fea, supplies;
And breeds whate'er is born beneath the rolling

fkies:

For every kind, by thy prolific might,
Springs, and beholds the regions of the light.
Thee, Goddess, thee the clouds and tempefts fear,
And at thy pleasing presence disappear:
For thee the land in fragrant flowers is dreft;
For thee the ocean fmiles, and fmooths her
wavy breaft;

And heaven itself with more ferene and purer
light is bleft.

For when the rifing spring adorns the mead,
And a new scene of nature stands display'd;
When teeming buds and cheerful greens appear,
And western gales unlock the lazy year,
The joyous birds thy welcome first exprefs,
Whofe native fongs thy genial fire confefs:
Then favage beafts bound o'er their flighted food,
Struck with thy darts, and tempt the raging
flood.

All nature is thy gift; earth, air, and fea;
Of all that breathes, the various progeny,
Stung with delight, is goaded on by thee.
O'er barren mountains, o'er the flowery plain,
The leafy foreft, and the liquid main,
Extends thy uncontrol'd and boundless reign:
Through all the living regions doft thou move,
And scatter'ft, where thou go'ft, the kindly feeds

of love.

Since then the race of every living thing
Obeys thy power; fince nothing new can fpring
Without thy warmth, without thy influence bear,
Or beautiful or lovefome can appear;
Be thou my aid, my tuneful fong inspire,
And kindle with thy own productive fire:
While all thy province, Nature, I furvey,
And fing to Memmius an immortal lay,
Of heaven and earth, and every where thy
wondrous power display;

Whom thou with all thy gifts and graces doft

adorn.

[ceafe,

The rather then affist my Muse and me,
Infufing verfes worthy him and thee.
Meantime on land and fea let barbarous difcord
And lull the liftening world in univerfal peace.
To thee mankind their feft repose must owe,
For thou alone that blefling canft bestow;
Because the brutal business of the war
Is manag'd by thy dreadful fervant's care;
Who oft retires from fighting fields, to prove
The pleafing pains of thy eternal love;
And, panting on thy breaft, fupinely lies,
While with thy heavenly form he feeds his fa-
mish'd eyes,

Sucks in with open lips thy balmy breath, [death.
By turns reftor'd to life, and plung'd in pleafing
There while thy curling limbs about him move,
Involv'd and fetter'd in the links of love,
When, wishing all, he nothing can deny,
Thy charms in that aufpicious moment try,
With winning eloquence our peace implore,
And quiet to the weary world restore.

THE BEGINNING OF THE SECOND BOOK OF LUCRETIUS.

'Tis pleafant, fafely to behold from shore The rolling fhip, and hear the tempest roar: Not that another's pain is our delight; But pains unfelt produce the pleafing fight. 'Tis pleasant alfo to behold from far The moving legions mingled in the war: But much more fweet thy labouring steps to guide

To virtue's heights, with wifdom well fupply'd,( And all the magazines of learning fortify'd: From thence to look below on human kind, Bewilder'd in the maze of life, and blind;