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Next Iphimedia glides in view, the wife
Of great Aloeus, who, in love compress'd
By Neptune, bore (so she the fact avow'd)
Otus and Ephialtes, whom the Fates

Cut short in early prime: their infant years,
Nurtur'd by Earth, enormous both attain'd
Gigantic stature, and for manly grace
Were next Orion rank'd; for in the course
Of nine swift circling years, nine cubits broad
Their shoulders measur'd, and nine ells their height.
Improvident of soul, they vainly dar'd
The gods to war, and on Olympus hoar
Rear'd Ossa, and on Ossa Pelion pil'd,

Torn from the base with all its woods; by scale T'assault Heaven's battlements; and had their date

To manhood been prolong'd, had sure achiev'd
Their ruinous aim: but by the silver dart
Of Phoebus sheer transfix'd, ere springing down
Shaded their rosy youth, they both expir'd,

Ill-fated Phædra then with Procris came,
And Ariadne, who them both surpass'd
In goddess-like demeanour; from her sire
Minos, the rigid arbiter of right,
Theseus of old convey'd her, with intent
At Athens, link'd in love, with her to reign:
But stern Diana, by the guile ful plea

Of Bacchus won, dissever'd soon their joys,
And caus'd the lovely nymph to fall forlorn
In Dia, with circumfluous seas in-girt,
Of nuptial rights defrauded, Next advance
Mara and Clymenè, a beauteous pair;
And Eriphyle, whose once radiant charms
A cloud of sorrow dimm'd; for she, devoid
Of duteous love, for gold betray'd her lord.→→
Here let me ccase narration, nor relate
What other objects fair, daughters and wives
Of heroes old, I saw; for now the night
In clouded majesty has journey'd far,
Admonishing to rest, which with my mates,
Or here with you, my wearied nature craves;
Meantime affianc'd in the gods and you,
To speed my voyage to my native realm.

He ceas'd: a while th' attentive audience sate In silent rapture; his persuasive tongue, Mellifluous, so with eloquence had charm'd Their still insatiate cars; at length thus spake The queen Arete, graceful and humane.

"Think ye, Phæacians, that the godlike form, The port, the wisdom, of this wanderer, claim Aught of regard? Peculiar him my guest I style; but since the honour he vouchsafes, Delighted ye partake, give not too soon Him signal of departure, but prepare, With no penurious hand, proportion'd gifts, Vyeing in bounteous deeds, since Heaven hath shower'd

Your peerage with abundant favours boon."

Up rose Echencus then, whose wavy locks,
Silver'd with age, adorn'd his reverend brow,
Fraught with maturest counsel, and began
Addressing his compeers: "Rightful and wise
The queen's proposal is, let none demur
Obedience to her will: Alcinous best,
By fair ensample, may prescribe the rule,"
Alcinous from his bed of state reply'd,

With aspect bland: "While here I live enthron'd,
Jove's delegate of empire, and this hand
Sways the Phæacian sceptre, will I cheer
Th' erroneous and afflicted, with meet acts

Of regal bounty; but our princely guest Must, though impatient, for a time defer His voyage, that with due munificence Our gifts may be prepar'd: let all accord, Benevolent, and free to furnish stores, Worthy acceptance; me you shall confess The first in bounty, as the first in power."

He ended, and Ulysses answer'd blithe:
"O thou, by kingly virtues justly rais'd
To this imperial eminence! By thee
Were I detain'd, till the revolving Sun
Completes his annual circle, in thy will
I acquiesce obedient, till meet stores
For my return be rais'd: then at my realm,
With royal largesses arriving grac'd,
And gay retinue, straight the wondering Greeks
Will dear respect and prompter homage yield."

To whom Alcinous: Your distinguish'd worth
Too plain is character'd in all your port,
To doubt you of those vagrant clans, who roam
Fallacious, and with copious legend take
The credulous ear; you, with severest truth,
Rob'd in rich eloquence, instruct and please,
When (like some bard, vers'd in heroic theme
Attemper'd to the lyre) you sweetly tell
Whate'er in Grecian story was of old
Recorded eminent, or when you speak
Your own disastrous fate. But now proceed,
Say, affable, if while you low sojourn'd
In gross Tartarean gloom, the mighty shades
Of those brave warring Greeks appear'd, who fell
By doom of battle; for the lingering night
Hath yet much space to measure, and the hour
Of sleep is far to come: I can attend,
With ravishment, to hear the pleasing tale
Fruitful of wonders, till the roseate morn
Purples the east." Ulysses thus reply'd:
"Due time, O king, for converse and repose,
Is still remaining; nor will I refuse,
With coy denial, what the sacred car
Of majesty with audience deigns to grace.
Hear next how my associate warriors fell,
O'erwhelm'd with huge afflictions, and oppress'd,
In their own realms, by feminine deceit,
To them more fatal than the prowess'd foe."

When, by imperious Proserpine recall'd, The lady-train dispers'd, the pensive form Of Agamemnon came, with those begirt, Whom, in one common fate involv'd, of life Fgysthus had bercav'd. Sipping the gore, He recogniz'd me instant, and outstretch'd His unsubstantial arms, exhausted now Of all their vital vigour; with shrill plaints, Piercing the doleful region far: mine eyes, Sore wounded with the piteous object dear, Effus'd a flood of tears, while thus I spake: "O king of hosts! O ever-bonour'd son Of Atreus! say to what severe decree Of Destiny you bow'd. By Neptune's wrath Tempesting th' ocean, did you there expire, Whelm'd in the watery abyss? Or fell you arm'd, Making fierce inroad on some hostile coast, To ravage herds and flocks; or in assault Of some imperial fortress, thence to win Rich spoils and beauteous captives, were you slain Defeated of your seizure?" He replied:

"I perish'd not, my friend, by Neptune's wrath Whelm'd in the ocean wave; nor dy'd in arms, Heroic deeds attempting: but receiv'd From base Ægysthus, and my baser queen,

Irreparable doom, whilst I partook
Refreshment, and at supper jovial sate,
Slain like an ox that's butcher'd at the crib,
A death most lamentable! Round me lay
An hideous carnage of my breathless friends,
Like beasts new slaughter'd for the bridal board
Of some luxurious noble, or devote
To solemn festival. On well-fought fields
You various scenes of slaughter have survey'd,
And in fierce tournament: yet had it quell'd
Your best of man to view us on the floor
Rolling in death, with viands round us spread,
And ponderous vases bruis'd, while human gore
Flooded the pavement wide. With shrilling cries
Cassandra pierc'd my ear, whom at my side
False Clytemnestra slew: t' avenge her wrong,
I with a dying grasp my sabre seiz'd,
But the curs'd assassin withdrew, nor clos'd
My lips and eyes. O woman! woman! none
Of Nature's savage train have less remorse
In perpetrating crimes; to kill her mate,
What beast was e'er accomplice? I return'd,
Hopeful in afHuence of domestic joy

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To reign, encircled with my offspring dear,
And court-retinue; but my traitress wife
On female honour hath diffus'd a stain
Indelible; and her pernicious arts,
Recorded for reproach on all the sex,
Shall wound soft innocence with touch of blame."
I answer'd, "O ye powers! by women's viles
Jove works sure bane to all th' imperial race
Of Atreus still: for Helen's vagrant lust
Greece mourns her states dispeopled; and you fell
By your adultress!" Plaintive.he reply'd:

"By my disasters warn'd, to woman's faith
Unbosom nought momentous; though she peal
Your ear, (by nature importune to know)
Unlock not all your secrets. But your wife,
Of prudent meek deport, no train of ills
Will meditate for you by force or guile:
Her, when we led th' embattled Greeks to Troy,
We left in blooming beauty fresh; your son
Then hanging on her breast; who now to man
Full grown, with men associates; your approach
With rapture he will meet, and glad his sire
With filial duty dear! a bliss to me
Not deign'd! my son I saw not ere I fell
A victim to my wife: then, timely warn'd,
Trust not to woman's ken the time prefix'd
For your return to Greece. But say sincere,
Aught have you heard where my Orestes bides,
In rich Orchomenus, or sandy Pyle;
Or with my brother lives he more secure
In spacious Sparta? for of this dark realm
He's not inhabitant." I thus rejoin'd:

"Vain is your quest, Atrides; whether Fate Permits your son to draw the breath of Heaven, Friendly to life; or whether in these shades He roains a ghost, I know not; nor with speech, False or ambiguous, will beguile your ear."

While mournful thus we talk 'd, suffus'd with tears Of tender sympathy, young Peleus came, With his associates most in life belov'd, Faithful Patroclus, and th' egregious 'son Of Nestor, great in arms; with them (conjoin'd In amicable converse, e'en by deach Uncancel'd) walk'd the tall illustrious shade Of Ajax, with attractive grace adorn'd,

1 Antilochus.

And prowess; paragon'd for both to none
But great Achilles: me the goddess-born
Ey'd curious, and at length thus sad began :
"What cause, Ulysses, moves thy mind, expert
Of warlike machinations; what emprise
Hath aught of such importance, as to tempt
This dire descent, where we in dolorous night,
Frail incorporeal forms, are doom'd abode?"

"O peerless chief," I cried, " of all the Greeks The foremost name! I hither am constrain'd, From the wise Theban oracle, to hear

Best means reveal'd how to revisit safe
My native realm; by rigid Fate repell'd,
I'm exil'd yet, with troops of various ills
Surrounded. But the gods, to your high worth
Ever propitious, crown their favourite chief
With choicer blessings than the eye of Time
Yet saw conferr'd, or future shall behold;
On Earth you equal honours with the gods
From us receiv'd; nor by the stroke of Fate
Sink with diminish'd lustre, but supreme

66

Reign o'er the shades." He solemn sad replied:
Reign here supreme! deem not thy eloquence
Can aught console my doom: rather on Earth
A village slave I'd be, than titled here
Imperial and august. But say me true,
Or did my son illustrate his descent
First in the files of war; or fled he pale
A recreant from the fight? Do all our tribes
In Phthia still revere my father's throne;
Or lives he now of regal power despoil'd,
A weak contemn'd old man, wanting my arm
To hold his sceptre firm? that arm! which erst,
Warring for Greece, bestrew'd the Phrygian plains
With many a prowess'd knight! Would Heaven
The same puissant form, I'd soon avenge [restore
His injur'd age, and re-assert his claim."

He ceasing, I reply'd: Of Peleus' state
Fame hath to me been silent; but attend,
While I th' achievements of thy glorious son
Blazon, as truth shall dictate Him to Troy,
From Scyros o'er th' Egean, safe I bore,
To join th' embattled Greeks: whene'er we sate
In council, to mature some high design,
First of the peerage with persuasive speech
His sentence he disclos'd, by all confess'd
The third from Nestor. But whene'er we mov'd
In battailous array, and the shrill clang
Of onset sounded, he, with haughty strides
Advancing in the van, the foremost chief,
Pierc'd through the adverse legions, nor was deem'd
Not equal to the best. Each hardy deed,
Which in his country's cause the youth achiev'd,
Were long to tell; but by his javelin dy'd
Eurypylus, of all th' auxiliary bands
Fain'd after Memnon first; with many a peer
Of Pergamenian race, around him strown.

"When in the wooden horse, by Epeus form'd, Selected heroes lay, aghast and pale The rest, shuddering with fear, let round big drops Roll from their drooping eyes, he sole abode Undaunted, undismay'd; no chilling doubt Frosted his damask check, nor silent tear Cours'd from its crystal sluice, but, grasping fierce His spear and falchion, for the combat grew Impatient, menacing decisive route

To Troy's opponent powers; and when the height
Of Hion had receiv'd the final stroke

From Grecian valour, with barbaric spoil,
To his high fame proportion'd, he return'd,

Unmark'd with hostile wound, though round him
Mars

With tenfold rage oft made the battle burn."
I ended: joy ineffable possess'd
The great paternal shade; his steps he rais'd
With more majestic portance o'er the mead,
Verdant with asphodel, elate to hear
His son's exploits emblazon'd fair by Fame.
The rest, a pensive circle, round await,
Reciting various dooms, to mortal ear
Calamitous and sad! From these apart
The Telamonjan hero, whom I foil'd
In contest for Achilles' arms, abode
Sullen with treasur'd wrath; the fatal strife
By Thetis was propos'd, and every judge
Instinct by Pallas, to my claim declar'd
The prize of right. O! why was I constrain'd
By honour to prevail, and cause to die
Ajax, the chief with manly grace adorn'd,
And prowess; paragon'd for both to none
But the great son of Peleus! Him with speech,
Lenient of wrath, I thus accosted mild:

"Ajax, let this oblivious gloom deface
The memory of those arms, which Heaven decreed
Pernicious to the Greeks, who lost in thee
Their power of strong defence: to mourn thy fall
The voice of Grief along the tented shore
Was heard, as loud as when the flower of war,
Divine Achilles, dy'd: nor deem that aught
Of human interpos'd to urge thy doom,
But ireful Jove, to punish all our host,
Cut off its darling hope. O royal shade!
Approach, and affable to me vouchsafe
Mild audience, calming thy tempestuous rage."
Vain was my suit! for with th' unbody'd troop
Of spectres, fleeting to th' interior shade
Of Erebus, he to my friendly speech
Disdain'd reply; yet to that dark recess
Had I pursu'd his flight, he must have borne
Unwilling correspondence, forc'd by Fate,
Impassion'd as he was; but I refrain'd,
For other visions drew my curious eye.

Intent I saw, with golden sceptre grave,
Minos, the son of Jove, to the pale ghosts
Disp nsing equity; with faded looks

They through the wide Plutonian hall appear'd
Frequent and full, and argued each his cause
At that tribunal, trembling whilst he weigh'd
Their pleaded reason. Of portentous size
Orion next I view'd; a brazen mace
Invincible he bore, in fierce pursuit
Of those huge mountain savages he slew,
While habitant of Earth, whose grisly forms
He urg'd in chae the flowery mead along.

Nor unobserv'd lay stretch'd upon the marle
Tityus, Earth-born, whose body, long and large,
Cover'd nine acres: there two vultures sat,
Of appetite insatiate, and with beaks
For ravine bent, unintermitting goar'd
His liver, powerless he to put to flight
The fierce devourers! to this penance judg'd
For rape intended on Latona fair,
The paramour of Jove, as she sojourn'd
To Pytho o'er the Panopeian lawns;
Delicious landscape!-In a limpid lake
Next Tantalus a doleful lot abides:
Chin-deep he stands, yet with afflictive drought
Incessant pines, while ever as he bows
To sip r freshment, from his parching thirst
The guilful water gudes. Around the pool

Fruit-trees of various kinds umbrageous spread
Their pamper'd boughs: the racy olive green,
The ripe pomegranate, big with vinous pulp,
The luscious fig sky-dy'd, the tasteful pear
Vermilion'd half, and apples mellowing sweet
In burnish'd gold, luxuriant o'er him wave,
Exciting hunger, and fallacious hope
Of food ambrosial:-when he tries to seize
The copious fruitage fair, a sudden gust
Whirls it aloof amid th' incumbent gloom.

Then Sisyphus, the nearest mate in woe,
Drew my regard; he, with distended nerves,
A ponderous stone rolls up a rugged rock;
Urg'd up the steep cliff, slow with hand and foot
It mounts, but bordering on the cloudy peak,
Precipitous adown the slopy side

The rapid orb devolving back, renews
Eternal toil, which he, with dust besmear'd,
And dew'd with smoaking sweat, incessant plies.
I last the visionary semblance view'd
Of Hercules, a shadowy form; for he,
The real son of Jove, in Heaven's high court
Abides, associate with the gods, and shares
Celestial banquets; where, with soft disport
Of love, bright Hebe in her radiant dome
Treats him nocturnal. With terrific clang
Surrounding ghosts, like fowl, the region wing
Vexatious, while the threatening image stands,
Gloomy as night, from his bent battle-bow
In act to let th' aerial arrow fly.
Athwart his breast a military zone
Dreadful he wore, where grinn'd in fretted gold
Grim woodland savages, with various scenes
Of war, fierce-jousting knights, and havoc dire,
With matchless art pourtray'd: me straight he

knew,

And, piteous of my state, address'd me thus:
"O exercis'd in grief, illustrious son

Of good Laertes, fam'd for warlike wiles!
Fated thou art (like me, what time I breath'd
Ethereal draught) beneath unnumber'd toils
To groan oppress'd: ev'n I, the seed of Jove,
Combated various ills, and was adjudg'd
By an inferior wretch (what could he more?)
To drag to light the triple-crested dog
That guards Hell's massy portal: I achiev'd
The task injoin'd, through the propitious aid
Of Mercury and Pallas, who vouchsaf'd
Their friendly guidance." Then, without reply,
To Pluto's court majestic he retir'd.

Meantime for others of heroic note

I waited in the lists of ancient Fame
Enroll'd illustrious; and had haply seen
Great Theseus, and Pirithous his compeer,
The race of gods; but at the hideous scream
Of spectres issuing from the dark profound
I wax'd infirm of purpose, sore dismay'd,
Lest Proserpine should send Medusa, curl'd
With suaky locks, to fix me in her realm
Stiff with Gorgonian horrour: to the ship
Retreating speedy thence, I bade my mates
To shove from shore: joyous they straight began
To stem the tide, and brush'd the whitening seas,
Till the fresh gales reliev'd the labouring oar.

THE WIDOW'S WILE,

Α ΚΑΙ Ε.

HAVE you not seen (to state the case) Two wasps lie struggling in a glass?

With the rich flavour of Tokay
Allur'd, about the brim they play;
They light, they murmur, then begin
To lick, and so at length slip in;
Embracing close the couple lies,
Together dip, together rise;

You'd swear they love, and yet they strive
Which shall be sunk, and which survive.
Such feign'd amours, and real hate,
Attend the matrimonial state;
When sacred vows are bought and sold,
And hearts are ty'd with threads of gold.
A nymph there was, who ('tis averr'd
By Fame) was born without a beard:
A certain sign, the learn'd declare,
That (guarded with uncommon care)
Her virtue might remain at ten
Impregnable to boys or men.
But from that era we'll proceed,
To find her in a widow's weed;
Which, all Love's chronicles agree,
She wore just turn'd of twenty-three;
For an old sot she call'd her mate,
For jewels, pin-money, and plate
The dame, possess'd of wealth and ease,
Had no more appetites to please;
That which provokes wild girls to wed,
Fie-It ne'er enter'd in her head.

Yet some prolific planet smil'd,
And gave the pair a chopping child;
Entitled by the law to claim

Her husband's chattels, and his name:
But was so like his mother! She

The queen of love, her Cupid he.

This matron fair, for spouse deceas'd,

Had sorrow'd sore, a week at least;

And seem'd to grudge the worms that prey,
Which had lain dead full many a day.
From plays and balls she now refrain'd,
To a dark room by custom chain'd;
And not a male, for love or gold,
But the dear hopes of two years old.
The maids, so long in prison pent,
Ask leave to air; she gives consent
(For health is riches to the poor):
But Tom must stay to guard the door.
In reading Sherlock she'd employ
Her solitude, and tend the boy.

When madam sees the coast is clear,
Her spirits mantle and career,
Diffusing ardour through her mien;
Pity they should condense to spleen!
But now by honour she's confiu'd,
Who flutter'd once as free as wind:
And on a masquerading morn
By six securely could return;
Having, to seal him safe till nine,
With opium drugg'd her spouse's wine.
This the gay world no worse would hold,
Than had she only chang'd his gold:
The species answer'd all demands,
And only pass'd through other hands.
But Honour now prescribes the law,
The tyrant keeps her will in awe;
For charity forbid to roam,
And not a chitterling at home.
What! a large stomach, and no meat!
In pity, Love, provide a treat;

Can widows feed on dreams and wishes,
Like hags on visionary dishes?

Impossible! Through walls of stone
Hunger will break, to suck a bone.
Want, oft in times of old, we read,
Mole mothers on their infants feed;
And now constrain'd this matron mild
To grow hard-hearted to her child.
Her darling child she pinch'd; he squall'd;
In haste the favourite footman's call'd,
To pacify the peevish chit;

For who but he could do the feat?
He, smarting sore, refus'd to play;
But bade man Thomas beat mamma.
She, laughing, soon avow'd her flame
By various signs that want a name.
The lacquey saw, with trembling joy,
Gay humour dancing in her eye;
And straight, with equal fury fir'd,
Began th' attack; the dame retir'd;
And haply falling as she fled,
He beat her till she lay for dead;
But (with new vigour for the strife)
Soon with a sigh return'd to life.

Think ye she'd e'er forgive her son,
For what the naughty man had done?
She did; yet, spited with his pain,
He sounds th' alarm to charge again.
But, 'squire, consult your potent ally,
Whether he's yet prepar'd to rally-
Yes; blood is hot on either side;
Another combat must be try'd.
She knew the foe could do no more,
Than at the first attack she bore;

So at his little malice smil'd,

And cry'd, "Come on!-to please the child."

"

A-LA-MODE.

My better self, my heaven, my joy! While thus imparadis'd I lie,

Transported in thy circling arms

With fresh variety of charms;

From Fate I scarce can think to crave

A bliss, but what in thee I have.

Twelve months, my dear, have past, since thou

Didst plight to me thy virgin vow;

Twelve months in rapture spent! for they
Seem shorter than St. Lucy's day:

A bright example we shall prove

Of lasting matrimonial love.

"Meanwhile, I beg the gods to grant,

(The only favour that I want) That I may not survive, to see

My happiness expire with thee.

O! should I lose my dearest dear,

By thee, and all that's good, I swear,
I'd give myself the fatal blow,
And wait thee to the world below."

When Wheedle thus to spouse in bed
Spoke the best things he e'er had read;
Madam, surpris'd, (you must suppose it)
Had lock'd a Templar in the closet;
A youth of pregnant parts, and worth,
To play at piquet, and so forth—
This wag, when he had heard the whole,
Demurely to the curtain stole,

And, peeping in, with solemn tone
Cry'd out, O man! thy days are done

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The gods are fearful of the worst,
And send ine, Death, to fetch thee first;
To save their favourite from self-murder,
Lo! thus I execute their order."

Hold, sir! for second thoughts are best,"
The husband cry'd: ""Tis my request,
With pleasure to prolong my life.”—
"Your meaning "-" Pray, sir, take my wife."

SAPPHO TO PHAON,

A LOVE EPISTLE.

TRANSLATED FROM OVID.

WHAT, after all my art, will you demand,
Before the whole is read, the writer's hand?
And could you guess from whom this letter came?
Before you saw it sign'd with Sappho's name?
Don't wonder, since I'm form'd for lyrics, why
The strain is turn'd to plaintive elegy;
1 mourn my slighted love; alas! my lute,
And sprightly odes, would ill with sorrow snit.
Fin scorch'd, I burn, like fields of corn on fire,
When winds to fan the furious blaze conspire,
To flaming Etna Phaon's pleas'd to roam,
But Sappho feels a fiercer flame at home.

No more my thoughts in even numbers flow,
Verse best befits a mind devoid of woe.
No more I court the nymphs I once carest,
But Phaon rules unrivall'd in my breast.
Fair is thy face, thy youth is fit for jay;
A fatal face to me, too cruel boy!
Enslav'd to those enchanting looks, that wear
The blush of Bacchus and Apollo's air;
Assume the garb of either god, in thee
We every grace of either god may see;
Yet they confess'd the power of female charms,
In Daphne's flight and Ariadne's arms;
Tho' neither nymph was fam'd for wit, to move,
With melting airs, the rigid soul to love.
To me the Muse vouchsafes celestial fire,
And my soft numbers glow with warm desire;
Alcæus and myself alike she crown'd,
For softness I, and he for strength, renown'd.
Beauty, 'tis true, penurious Fate denies,
But wit my want of beauty well supplies:
My shape, I own, is short, but yet my name
Is far diffus'd, and fills the voice of Fame.
If I'm not fair, young Perseus did adore
The swarthy graces of the royal Moor1:

The milk-white doyes with mottled mates are join'd,
And the gay parrot to the turtle's kind:
But if you'll fly from Love's connubial rites,
Till one as charming as yourself invites,
None of our sex can ever bless your bed;
Ne'er think of wooing, for you ne'er can wed.
Yet, when you read my verse, you lik'd each
line,

And swore no numbers were so sweet as mine;
I sang (that pleasing image still is plain,
Such tender things we lovers long retain !)
And ever when the warbling notes I rais'd,
You with fierce kisses stifled what you prais'd.
Some winning grace in every act you found,
But in full tides of ecstasy were drown'd;

! Andromeda.

When murmuring in the melting joys of love,
Round yours my curling limbs began to move:
But now the bright Sicilian maids adore
The youth, who seem'd so fond of me before:
Send back, send back my fugitive! for he
Will vow to you the vows he made to me:
That smooth deceiving tongue of his can charm
The coyest ear, the roughest pride disarm.

O, aid thy poetess, great queen of love,
Auspicious to my growing passion prove!
Fortune was cruel to my tender age,
And still pursues with unrelenting rage.
Of parents, whilst a child, I was bereft,
To the wide world an helpless orphan left:
My brother, in a strumpet's vile embrace,
Lavish'd a large estate to buy disgrace,
And, doom'd to traffic, on the main is tost,
Winning, with danger, what with shame he lost;
And vows revenge on me, who dar'd to blame
His conduct, and was careful of his fame:
And then (as if the woes I bore beside
Were yet too light) my little daughter dy'd.
But after all these pangs of sorrow past,
A worse came on, for Phaon came at last!
No gems, nor rich embroider'd silks, I wear;
No more in artful curls I comb my hair;
No golden threads the wavy locks enwreath,
Nor Syrian oils diffusive odours breathe:
Why should I put such gay allurements on,
Now he, the darling of my soul, is gone?
Soft is my breast, and keen the killing dart,
And he who gave the wound deserves my heart:
My fate is fix'd, for sure the Fates decreed
That he should wound, and Sappho's bosom bleed.
By the smooth blandishments of verse betray'd,
In vain I call my reason to my aid;
The Muse is faithless to the fair at best,
But fatal in a love-sick lady's breast.

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Yet is it strange so sweet a youth should dart Flames so resistless to a woman's heart? Him had Aurora scen, he soon had seiz'd Her soul, and Cephalus no more had pleas'd: Chaste Cynthia, did she once behold his charms, For Phaon's would forsake Endymion's arms; Venus would bear him to her bower above, But there she dreads a rival in his love. O fair perfection thou, nor youth, nor boy, Fix'd in the bright meridian point for joy! Come, on my panting breast thy head recline, Thy love I ask not, only suffer mine: While this I ask, (but ask, I fear, in vain) See how my falling tears the letter stain. At least, why would you not vouchsafe to show A kind regret, and say, My dear, adieu !" Nor parting kiss I gave, nor tender tear, My ruin flew on swifter wings than fear: My wrongs, too safely treasur'd in my mind, Are all the pledges Phaon left behind; Nor could I make my last desire to thee, Sometimes to cast a pitying thought on me. But, gods! when first the killing news I heard, What pale amazement in my looks appear'd! Awhile o'erwhelm'd with unexpected woe, My tongue forbore to speak, my eyes to flow. But when my sense was waken'd to despair, I beat my tender breast, and tore my hair: As a distracted mother weeps forlorn, When to the grave her fondling babe is borne. Meanwhile my cruel brother, for relief, With scorn insults me, and derides my grief:

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