APOLLO, god of founds and verfe,

Pathetic airs and moving thoughts infpire! Whilft we thy Damon's praife rehearse: Damon himself could animate the lyre. Apollo, god of founds and verfe, Pathetic airs and moving thoughts infpire! Look down! and warm the song with thy celeftial fire.

II.

Ah, lovely youth! when thou wert here,
Thyfelf a young Apollo did appear;

Young as that god, so sweet a grace,
Such blooming fragrance in thy face;

So foft thy air, thy visage so serene,
That harmony ev'n in thy look was feen.

III.

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But when thou didst th' obedient strings command, And join in confort thy melodious hand, Ev'n Fate itself, fuch wondrous ftrains to hear,

Fate had been charm'd, had Fate an ear.

But what does mufic's fkill avail?
When Orpheus did his lofs deplore,
Trees bow'd attentive to his tale;

Hufh'd

were the winds, wild beafts forgot to roar; But dear Eurydice came back no more.

E 4

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IV. Then

IV.

Then cease, ye fons of harmony, to mourn ;

Since Damon never can return.

See, fee! he mounts, and cleaves the liquid way! 25

Bright choirs of angels, on the wing,

For the new gueft's arrival stay,

And hymns of triumph fing.

They bear him to the happy feats above,
Seats of eternal harmony and love;

Where artful Purcell went before.

Ceafe then, ye fons of mufic, cease to mourn :

Your Damon never will return,

No, never, never more!

AN ACREON.

AT

T dead of night, when mortals lofe
Their various cares in soft repose,

I heard a knocking at my door:
Who's that, faid I, at this late hour
Disturbs my rest ?—It sobb'd and cry'd,
And thus in mournful tone reply'd.
"A poor unhappy child am I,
"That's come to beg your charity;
"Pray let me in!-You need not fear;
"I mean no harm, I vow and fwear ;
"But, wet and cold, crave fhelter here.

;

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10}

"Betray'd

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"Betray'd by night, and led astray, "I've loft-alas! I've loft my way." Mov'd with this little tale of fate, I took a lamp, and op'd the gate; When fee! a naked boy before The threshold; at his back he wore A pair of wings, and by his fide A crooked bow and quiver ty'd. "My pretty angel! come, faid I, "Come to the fire, and do not cry!" I ftrok'd his neck and shoulders bare, And squeez'd the water from his hair; Then chaf'd his little hands in mine, And cheer'd him with a draught of wine. Recover'd thus, fays he; "I'd know, "Whether the rain has spoil'd my bow ; "Let's try”—then shot me with a dart. The venom throbb'd, did ake and smart, As if a bee had stung my heart. "Are these your thanks, ungrateful child, "Are these your thanks?"— Th' impoftor fmil'd; "Farewell, my loving hoft, fays he; "All's well; my bow's unhurt, I see;

But what a wretch I've made of thee!"

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THE

THE STORY OF

PYRAMUS AND THIS BE.

FROM THE FOURTH BOOK OF OVID'S

METAMORPHOSES.

WHERE Babylon's proud walls, erected high

By fam'd Semiramis, afcend the fky,

Dwelt youthful Pyramus, and Thisbe fair;
Adjoining houfes held the lovely pair.
His perfect form all other youths furpass'd;
Charms fuch as hers no Eastern beauty grac❜d.
Near neighbourhood the firft acquaintance drew,
An early promife of the love t' enfue.

ΤΟ

Time nurs❜d the growing flame; had Fate been kind,
The nuptial rites their faithful hands had join❜d ;
But, with vain threats, forbidding parents ftrove
To check the joy; they could not check the love.
Each captive heart confumes in like defire;
The more conceal'd, the fiercer rag'd the fire,
Soft looks, the filent eloquence of eyes,
And fecret figns, fecure from household fpies,
Exchange their thoughts; the common wall, between
Each parted house, retain'd a chink, unfeen
For ages paft. The lovers foon efpy'd
This fmall defect, for Love is eagle-ey'd,
And in foft whifpers foon the paffage try'd.

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Safe

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Safe went the murmur'd founds, and every day
A thoufand amorous blandishments convey;
And often, as they flood on either fide,
To catch by turns the flitting voice, they cry'd,
Why, envious wall, ah! why doft thou deftroy
The lovers hopes, and why forbid the joy?
How fhould we blefs thee, would't thou yield to
charms,

And, opening, let us rush into each other's arms!
At least, if that's too much, afford a space
To meeting lips, nor fhall we flight the grace;
We owe to thee this freedom to complain,
And breathe our vows, but vows, alas! in vain.
Thus having faid, when evening call'd to rest,
The faithful pair on either fide impreft

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An intercepted kifs, then bade good-night ;
But when th' enfuing dawn had put to flight

The stars; and Phœbus, rifing from his bed,

Drank up the dews, and dry'd the flowery mead,
Again they meet, in fighs again difclofe

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Their grief, and laft this bold defign propofe;

That, in the dead of night, both would deceive
Their keepers, and the house and city leave ;
And left, escap'd, without the walls they ftray
In pathlefs fields, and wander from the way,
At Ninus' tomb their meeting they agree,
Beneath the fhady covert of the tree;

The tree well-known near a cool fountain grew,
And bore fair mulberries of fnowy hue.

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The