Her comely limbs compos'd with decent care,
Her body shaded with a flight cymarr;
Her bofom to the view was only bare:
Where two beginning paps were scarcely spy'd,
For yet their places were but fignify'd:
The fanning wind upon her bofom blows,
To meet the fanning wind the bosom rofe;
The fanning wind, and purling ftreams, continue her
repofe.
The fool of nature ftood with ftupid eyes,
And gaping mouth, that teftify'd furprize,
Fix'd on her face, nor could remove his fight,
New as he was to love, and novice to delight:
Long mute he stood, and leaning on his staff,
His wonder witnefs'd with an idiot laugh;
Then would have fpoke, but by his glimmering fenfe
First found his want of words, and fear'd offence;
Doubted for what he was he fhould be known,
By his clown accent, and his country tone.
Thro' the rude chaos thus the running light
Shot the first ray that pierc'd the native night:
Then day and darkness in the mass were mix'd,
Till gather'd in a globe the beams were fix'd:
Laft fhone the fun, who radiant in his fphere,
Illumin'd heav'n and earth, and roll'd around the year,
So reafon in this brutal foul began,
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 inftructor, love, at once infpir'd,
As barren grounds to fruitfulness are fir'd:
Love taught him shame, and shame 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 juft 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 stupidly admire:
As flies, allur'd by light, approach the fire.
Thus our man-beaft advancing by degrees,
First likes the whole, then fep'rates what he sees
On fev'ral parts a fev'ral praife beftows,
The ruby lips, the well-proportion'd nose,
The fnowy skin, and raven-gloffy hair,
The dimpled cheek, and forehead rifing fair,
And ev'n in fleep itself, a fmiling air.
From thence his eyes defcending view'd the reft,
Her plump round arms, white hands, and heaving breast,
Long on the laft he dwelt, tho' ev'ry 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 flumber hid,
And wish'd his own could pierce within the lid :
He would have wak'd her, but reftrain'd his thought,
And love new-born the firft good manners taught.
An awful fear his ardent with withstood,
Nor durft difturb the goddess of the wood.
For fuch fhe feem'd by her celeftial face,
Excelling all the rest of human race, .
And things divine, by common fsense he knew,
Must be devoutly feen, at diftant view:
So checking his defire, with trembling heart
Gazing he flood, nor would, nor could depart;
Fix'd as a pilgrim wilder'd in his
way,
Who dares not ftir by night, for fear to ftray,
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 flav'ring cudden, propp'd upon his ftaff,
Stood ready gaping with a grinning laugh,
To welcome her awake, nor durft begin
To speak, but wifely kept the fool within.
Then fhe; What makes you, Cymon, here alone?
(For Cymon's name was round the country known,
Because defcended of a noble race,
And for a foul ill-forted with his face.)
But ftill the fot ftood filent with furprise,
With fix'd regard on her new open'd eyes,
And in his breaft receiv'd th' invenom'd dart,
A tickling pain that pleas'd amid the smart.
But conscious of her form, with quick diftruft
She faw his sparkling eyes, and fear'd his brutal luft:
This to prevent, fhe wak'd her fleepy crew,
And rifing hafty, took a fhort adieu.
Then Cymon firft his ruftic voice effay'd,
With proffer'd service to the parting maid
To fee her fafe; his hand fhe long deny'd,
But took at length, afham'd of fuch a guide.
So Cymon led her home, and leaving there,
No more would to his country clowns repair,
But fought his father's houfe, with better mind,
Refufing in the farm to be confin'd.
The father wonder'd at the fon's return,
And knew not whether to rejoice or mourn;
But doubtfully receiv'd, expecting ftill
To learn the fecret caufes of his alter'd will.
Nor was he long delay'd: the first request
He made, was like his brother's to be drefs'd,
And as his birth requir'd, above the rest.
With ease his fuit was granted by his fire,
Diftinguishing his heir by rich attire:
His body thus adorn'd, he next defign'd
With lib'ral arts to cultivate his mind:
He fought a tutor of his own accord,
And ftudy'd leffons he before abhorr'd.
Thus the man-child advanc'd, and learn'd so fast,
That in fhort time his equals he furpafs'd:
His brutal manners from his breast exil'd,
His mein he fashion'd, and his tongue he fil'd;
In ev'ry exercise of all admir'd,
He feem'd, nor only feem'd, but was infpir'd:
Infpir'd by love, whose business is to please ;
He rode, he fenc'd, he mov'd with graceful ease,
More fam'd for fenfe, for courtly carriage more,
Than for his brutal folly known before.
What then of alter'd Cymon fhall we fay,
But that the fire which choak'd in ashes lay,
A load too heavy for his foul to move,
Was upward blown below, and brufh'd away by love.
Love made an active progress thro' his mind,
The dusky parts he clear'd, the gross refin'd,
The drowsy wak'd; and as he went imprefs'd
The Maker's image on the human breast.
Thus was the man amended by desire,
And tho' he lov'd perhaps with too much fire,
His father all his faults with reason scan'd,
And lik'd an error of the better hand;
Excus'd th' excess of paffion in his mind,
By flames too fierce, perhaps too much refin'd;
So Cymon, fince his fire indulg'd his will,
Impetuous lov'd, and would be Cymon ftill;
Galefus he disown'd, and chose to bear
The name of fool confirm'd, and bishop'd by the fair.
To Cipfeus by his friends his fuit he mov❜d,
Cipfeus the father of the fair he lov'd:
But he was pre-engag'd by former ties,
While Cymon was endeavouring to be wife:
And Iphigene, oblig'd by former vows,
Had giv'n her faith to wed a foreign spouse:
Her fire and fhe to Rhodian Pasimond,
Though both repenting, were by promife bound,
Nor could retract; and thus, as fate decreed,
Tho' better lov'd, he spoke too late to speed.
The doom was paft, the ship already fent
Did all his tardy diligence prevent:
Sigh'd to herself the fair unhappy maid,
While ftormy Cymon thus in fecret faid:
The time is come for Iphigene to find
The miracle fhe wrought upon my mind:
Her charms have made me man, her ravish'd love
In rank fhall place me with the bleft above.
For mine by love, by force she shall be mine,
Or death, if force fhould fail, fhall finish my defign.
Refolv'd he faid; and rigg'd with speedy care
A veffel ftrong, and well equipp'd for war.
The fecret fhip with chofen friends he stor❜d;
And bent to die, or conquer, went aboard.
Ambush'd he lay behind the Cyprian fhore,
Waiting the fail that all his wishes bore;
Nor long expected, for the following tide
Sent out the hoftile fhip and beauteous bride.
To Rhodes the rival bark directly fteer'd,
When Cymon fudden at her back appear'd,
And ftopp'd her flight: then ftanding on his prow
In haughty terms he thus defy'd the foe;
Or ftrike your fails at fummons, or prepare
To prove the laft extremities of war,
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