He speeds the rifing day, and sheds his light'
Redoubled on the grove, to gain a nearer fight.
Not with more fpeed his Daphne he pursued, .
Nor fair Leucothoe with fuch pleasure view'd;
Five dazzling nymphs in graceful pomp appear;
He thinks his Daphne and Leucothce here,
Join'd with that heavenly three, who on mount Ide 15
Descending once the prize of beauty try`d.
Ye verdant Elms, that towering grace this grove,
Be facred ftill to Beauty, and to Love! ·
No thunder break, nor lightning glare between
Your twisted boughs, but fuch as then was seen.
The grateful fun will every morning rise
Propitious here, faluting from the skies.
Your lofty tops, indulg'd with sweetest air,
And every spring your loffes he'll repair;
Nor his own laurels more fhall be his care.
AND THE SICKNESS OF THE FORMER.
AN altar raife to Friendship's holy flame,
Infcrib'd with Phoebe's and Afteria's name!
Around it mingled in a folemn band,
Let Phoebe's lovers, and Afteria's stand,
With fervent vows t' attend the facrifice;
While rich perfumes from melted gums arife,
To bribe for Phoebe's health the partial skies.
Forbid it, Love, that fickly blaits confume
The flower of beauty in its tender bloom!
Shall the fo foon to her own heaven retire,
Who gave so oft, yet never felt thy fire?
Who late at fplendid feafts fo graceful fhone,
By pleafing fmiles and numerous conquests known; Where, midft the brightest nymphs, the bore the prize
From all-from all but her Afteria's eyes.
Behold the maid, who then fecure repell'd
The fhafts of Love, by fainting fickness quell'd!
(As Beauty's goddess once a wound sustain'd,
Not from her fon, but from a * mortal's hand)
Afteria too forgets her fprightly charms,
And drooping lies within her Phoebe's arms.
Thus in romantic hiftories we read
Of tournaments by fome great prince decreed,
Where two companion-knights their lances wield
With matchlefs force, and win, from all, the field; 25
Till one, o'erheated in the course, retires,
And feels within his veins a fever's fires;
His grieving friend his laurels throws away,
And mourns the dear-bought triumphs of the day.
So ftrict's the union of this tender pair,
What Heaven decrees for one, they both muft fare.
Like meeting rivers, in one stream they flow,
And no divided joys or forrows know.
Not the bright twins, prefer'd in heaven to fhine,
Fair Leda's fons, in fuch a league could join.
One foul, as fables tell, by turns fupply'd
That heavenly pair, by turns they liv'd and dy'd:
But thefe have fworn a matchlefs fympathy,
They'll live together, or together die.
When Heaven did at Afteria's birth bestow
Those lavish charms, with which the wounds us fo,
To form her glorious mind, it did inspire
A double portion of th' ætherial fire,
That half might afterward be thence convey'd,
To animate that other lovely maid.
Thus native inftinct does their hearts combine,
In knots too close for Fortune to untwine.
So India boafts a tree, that fpreads around
Its amorous boughs, which bending reach the ground,
Where taking root again, the branches raife
A fecond tree to meet its fond embrace;
Then fide by fide the friendly neighbours thrive,
Fed by one fap, and in each other live.
Of Phoebe's health we need not fend to know
How Nature strives with her invading foe,
What symptoms good or ill each day arise;
We read thofe changes in Afteria's eyes.
Thus in fome crystal fountain you may fey
The face of Heaven, and the reflected sky,
See what black clouds arife, when tempests lour,
And gathering mists portend a falling shower,
And when the fun breaks out, with conquering ray
To chace the darkness, and restore the day.
Such be thy fate, bright maid! from this decline Arife renew'd the charms, and doubly thine! And as that dawning planet was addrest With offer'd incenfe by th' adoring east, So we'll with fongs thy glad recovery greet, The Mufe fall lay her prefents at thy feet; With open arms, Afteria fhall receive
The dearest pledge propitious Heaven can give. Fann'd by these winds, your friendship's generous fire Shall burn more bright, and to fuch heights aspire, The wondering world shall think you from above Come down to teach how happy angels love.
FAME of Dorinda's conqueft brought
The god of love her charms to view;
To wound th' unwary maid he thought,
But foon became her conquest too.
He dropp'd, half drawn, his feeble bow,
He look'd, he rav'd, and fighing pin'd;
And wish'd in vain he had been now,
As painters falfly draw himself, blind.
Difarm'd, he to his mother flies;
Help, Venus, help the wretched fon!
Who now will pay us facrifice?
For Love himfelf's, alas! undone.
To Cupid now no lover's prayer
Shall be addrefs'd in suppliant fighs ;
My darts are gone, but oh beware,
Fond mortals, of Dorinda's eyes.
A Round your couch while fighing lovers view
Wit, beauty, goodness, fuffering all in you;
So mournful is the scene, 'tis hard to tell
Which face betrays the fick, or who is well.
They feel not their own pains, while yours they share,
Worse tortur'd now, than lately by despair.
For bleeding veins a like relief is found,
When iron red-hot by burning ftops the wound.
Grant, Heaven, they cry, this moment our defire,
To fee her well, though we the next expire.
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