From furtheft Africa's tormented womb

The marble brought, erects the fpacious dome,
Or forms the pillars long-extended rows,

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On which the planted grove and penfile garden grows.
The workmen here obey the master's call,
To gild the turret and to paint the wall;
To mark the pavement there with various stone,
And on the jafper fteps to rear the throne:
The fpreading cedar, that an age had stood,
Supreme of trees, and miftrefs of the wood,
Cut down and carv'd, my shining roof adorns,
And Lebanon his ruin'd honour mourns.

A thousand artifts fhew their cunning pow'r
To raise the wonders of the iv'ry tow'rs:
A thousand maidens ply the purple loom
To weave the bed and deck the regal room;
Till Tyre confeffes her exhausted store,
That on her coaft the murex * is no more;
Till from the Parian ifle and Liby's coaft
The mountains grieve their hopes of marble loft;
And India's woods return their juft complaint,
Their brood decay'd, and want of elephant.
My full defign with vaft expence achiev'd,
I came, beheld, admir'd, reflected, griev'd:
I chid the folly of my thoughtless hafte,
For, the work perfected, the joy was paft.

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To my new courts fad Thought did ftill repair, And round my gilded roofs hung hov'ring Care. In vain on filken beds I fought repofe, And restless oft from purple couches rofe; Vexatious Thought ftill found my flying mind, Nor bound by limits nor to place confin'd: Haunted my nights, and terrify'd my days, Stalk'd thro' my gardens, and purfu'd my ways, Nor fhut from artful bow'r, nor loft in winding maze. Yet take thy bent, my Soul; another sense Indulge: add mufic to magnificence:

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The murex is a fhell-fish, of the liquor whereof a purple colour is made

Effay if harmony may grief control,

Or pow'r of found prevail upon the foul.

Often our feers and poets have confeft

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That mufic's force can tame the furious beaft;
Can make the wolf or foaming boar restrain
His rage, the lion drop his crefted main,
Attentive to the fong; the lynx forget
His wrath to man, and lick the minstrel's feet.
Are we, alas! lefs favage yet than these?
Elfe mufic fure may human cares appease.
1 fpake my purpofe, and the cheerful choir
Parted their fhares of harmony: the lyre
Suften'd the timbrel's noife; the trumpet's found
Provok'd the Dorian flute, (both sweeter found
When mix'd) the fife the viol's notes refin'd,
And ev'ry ftrength with ev'ry grace was join'd:
Each morn they wak'd me with a fprightly lay;
Of op'ning heav'n they fung and gladsome day :
Each ev'ning their repeated skill exprest
Scenes of repofe and images of reft;

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Yet ftill in vain; for mufic gather'd thought;
But how unequal the effects it brought?
The foft ideas of the cheerful note,

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Lightly receiv'd, were easily forgot;
The folemn violence of the graver found

Knew to ftrike deep, and leave a lafting wound.
And now reflecting, I with grief defcry

The fickly luft of the fantastic

eye;

How the weak organ is with feeing cloy'd,

Flying ere night what it at noon enjoy'd.

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And now (unhappy fearch of thought!) I found

The fickle ear foon glutted with the found,
Condemn'd eternal changes to pursue,
Tir'd with the laft and eager of the new.

I bade the virgins and the youth advance,
To temper mufic with the fprightly dance.
In vain too low the mimic motions feem;
What takes our heart muft merit our esteem.

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Nature, I thought, perform'd too mean a part,
Forming her movements to the rules of art;
And vex'd I found that the mufician's hand
Had o'er the dancer's mind too great command. 105
I drank; I lik'd it not: 'twas rage, 'twas hoife;
An airy fcene of tranfitory joys,

In vain I trufted that the flowing bowl
Would banish forrow and enlarge the foul.
To the late revel and protracted feaft
Wild dreams fucceeded and diforder'd reft;
And as at dawn of morn fair reafon's light
Broke thro' the fumes and phantoms of the night,
What had been faid, I afk'd my foul, what done? 114
How flow'd our mirth, and whence the fource begun ?
Perhaps the jeft that charm'd the fprightly crowd,
And made the jovial table laugh fo loud,

To fome falfe notion ow'd its poor pretence,
To an ambiguous word's perverted fenfe,
To a wild fonnet, or a wanton air,
Offence and torture to the fober ear,
Perhaps, alas! the pleasing stream was brought
From this man's error, from another's fault;
From topics which good-nature would forget,
And prudence mention with the last regret.

Add yet unnumber'd ills that lie unfeen
In the pernicious draught; the word obfcene
Or harth, which once elanc'd must ever fly
Irrevocable: the too prompt reply,
Seed of fevere diftruft and fierce debate,

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What we should shun, and what we ought to hate.
Add, too, the blood impov'rish'd, and the courfe
Of health fupprefs'd by wine's continu'd force.
Unhappy man! whom forrow thus and rage
To diff'rent ills alternately engage;
Who drinks, alas! but to forget; nor fees
That melancholy floth, fevere difeafe,
Mem'ry confus'd, and interrupted thought,
Death's harbingers, lie latent in the draught;
And in the flow'rs that wreath the fparkling bow!
Fell adders hifs, and pois'nous ferpents roll.

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Remains there ought untry'd that may remove
Sickness of mind, and heal the bofom ?-Love!
Love yet remains; indulge his genial fire,
Cherish fair Hope, folicit young Defire,
And boldly bid thy anxious foul explore
This laft great remedy's myfterious pow'r.
Why, therefore, hefitates my doubtful breast?
Why ceafes it one moment to be bleft?

Fly fwift, my Friends; my Servants fly; employ
Your inftant pains to bring your mafter joy.
Let all my wives and concubines be drest
Let them to-night attend the royal feaft;
All Ifrael's beauty, all the foreign fair,
The gifts of princes, or the fpoils of war:
Before their monarch they fhail fingly pass,
And the moft worthy fhall obtain the grace.

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I faid: the feaft was ferv'd; the bowl was crown'd;

To the King's pleasure went the mirthful round,

The women came: as cuftom wills they paft:
On one (O that distinguish'd one!) I caft
The fav'rite glance! O! yet my mind retains
That fond beginning of my infant pains.
Mature the virgin was, of Egypt's race,

Grace fhap'd her limbs and beauty deck'd her face:
Eafy her motion feem'd, ferene her air;
Full, tho' unzon'd, her bofom rofe; her hair

Unty'd, and, ignorant of artful aid,

Adown her shoulders loofely lay display'd,

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And in the jetty curls ten thoufand cupids play'd,
Fix'd on her charms, and pleas'd that I could love,
Aid me, my Friends, contribute to improve
Your monarch's blifs, I faid: fresh roses bring
To ftrew my bed, till the impov'rifh'd Spring
Confefs her want: around my am'rous head
Be dropping myrrh and liquid amber shed
Till Arab has no more; from the foft lyre,
Sweet flute, and ten-ftring'd inftrument require
Sounds of delight: and thou, fair Nymph, draw nigh,
Thou in whofe graceful form and potent eye,

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Thy mafter's joy, long fought, at length is found,
And, as thy brow, let my defires be crown'd.
O fav'rite virgin, that haft warm 'd the breast,
Whofe fov'reign dictates fubjugate the East!

:

I faid and fudden from the golden throne,
With a submissive step, I hasted down.
The glowing garland from my hair I took,
Love in my heart, obedience in my look,
Prepar'd to place it on her comely head,
O fav'rite Virgin! (yet again I faid)
Receive the honours deftin'd to thy brow;
And O, above thy fellows, happy thou!
Their duty muft thy fov'reign word obey.
Rife up, my love, my fair one, come away.
What pang, alas! what ecstasy of smart
Tore up my fenfes and transfix'd my heart,

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When the with modeft fcorn the wreath return'd,
Reclin'd her beauteous neck, and inward mourn'd!
Forc'd by my pride, I my concern supprest,
Pretended drowfinefs and wish of rest;
And fullen, I forfook th' imperfect feast :
Ord'ring the eunuchs, to whofe proper care
Our Ealtern grandeur gives th' imprifon'd fair,
To lead her forth to a diftinguifh'd bow'r,
And bid her drefs the bed, and wait the hour.
Reftlefs I follow'd this obdurate maid,
(Swift are the steps that Love and Anger tread)
Approach'd her perfon, courted her embrace,
Renew'd my flame, repeated my difgrace:
By turns put on the fuppliant and the lord:
Threaten'd this moment, and the next implor'd,
Offer'd again the unaccepted wreath,
And choice of happy love, or inftant death.
Averie to all her am'rous King defir'd,
Far as fhe might she decently retir'd,
And darting fcorn and forrow from her eyes,
What means, faid the, King Solomon the wife?
This wretched body trembles at your pow'r;
Thus far could Fortune, but the can no more.
VOL. II.

K

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