And foon fhall cover two; for ever wear
Death's fable hue, and purple berries bear!
She faid, and plunges in her breast the sword,
Yet warm, and reeking from its flaughter'd lord.
Relenting heaven allows her last request,
And pity touch'd their mournful parents breast.
The fruit, when ripe, a purple dye retains ;
And in one urn are plac'd their dear remains.
IN IMITATION OF OVID,, AMORUM LIB. I.
TELL me, fome god, whence does this change
Why gentle fleep forfakes my weary eyes }
Why, turning often, all the tedious night
In pain I lie, and watch the springing light ?—
What cruel dæmon haunts my tortur'd mind?
Sure, if 'twere love, I should th' invader find;
Unless difguis'd he lurks, the crafty boy,
With filent arts ingenious to destroy.
Alas! 'tis fo-'tis fix'd the fecret dart ;
I feel the tyrant ravaging my heart.
Then, fhall I yield; or th' infant flame oppofe?
I yield -Refiitance would increase my woes :
For ftruggling flaves a sharper doom sustain,
Than fuch as ftoop obedient to the chain.
I own thy power, almighty Love! I'm thine;
With pinion'd hands behold me here resign!
Let this fubmiffion then my life obtain;
Small praife 'twill be, if thus unarm`d I'm slain.
Go, join thy mother's doves; with myrtle braid thy
The god of war himself a chariot shall prepare ;
Then thou triumphant through the shouting throng
Shalt ride, and move with art the willing birds along;
While captive youths and maids, in folemn state,
Adorn the scene, and on thy triumph wait.
There I, a later conquest of thy bow,
In chains will follow too; and as I go,
the new-made wound will fhow.
Next, all that dare Love's fovereign power defy,
In fetters bound, inglorious fhall pass by:
All shall submit to thee-Th' applauding crowd 30
Shall lift their hands, and fing thy praife aloud.
Soft looks fhall in thy equipage appear,
With amorous play, mistake, and jealous fear.
Be this thy guard, great Love!-be this thy train;
Since thefe extend o'er men and gods thy reign; 35
But, robb'd of these, thy power is weak and vain.
From heaven thy mother shall the pomp furvey,
And, smiling, scatter fragrant fhowers of roles in thy
Whilft thou, array'd in thy unrival'd pride,
On golden wheels, all gold thy felf, fhalt ride:
Thy fpreading wings shall richest diamonds wear,
gems fhal fparkle in thy lovely hair.
Thus paffing by, thy arm fhall hurl around
Ten thousand fires, ten thousand hearts fhall wound.
This is thy practice, Love, and this thy gain;
From this thou canst not, if thou would'st, refrain
Since ev'n thy prefence, with prolific heat,
Does reach the heart, and active flames create,
From conquer'd India, fo the * Jovial God,
Drawn o'er the plains by harness'd tigers, rode,
Then fince, great Love, I take a willing place
Amidst thy fpoils, the facred fhow to grace;
O cease to wound, and let thy fatal store
Of piercing shafts be spent on me no more.
No more, too powerful in my charmer's eyes,
Torment a flave, that for her beauty dies
Or look in fimiles from thence, and I fhall be
A flave no longer, but a God, like thee!
COME, my Mufe, a Venus draw;
Not the fame the Grecians faw, By the fam'd Apelles wrought, Beauteous offspring of his thought.
Queen of fancy! hither bring
On thy gaudy-feather'd wing
All the beauties of the spring.
Like the bee's induftrious pains
To collect his golden gains,
So from every flower and plant
Gather firft th' immortal paint.
Fetch me lilies, fetch me rofes,
Daifies, violets, cowflip-pofies.
Amaranthus' parrot pride,
Woodbines, Pinks, and what befide
Does th' embroider'd meads adorn,
Where the fawns and fatyrs play
In the merry month of May.
Steal the blush of opening morn;
Borrow Cynthia's filver white,
When the fhines at noon of night,
Free from clouds to veil her light.
Juno's bird his tail shall spread,
Iris' bow its colours fled,
All to deck this charming piece,
Far furpaffing ancient Greece.
First her graceful ftature show,
Not too tall, not yet too low.
Fat fhe must not be, nor lean;
Let her shape be straight and clean;
Small her waste, and, thence increast,
Gently fwells her rifing breaft.
And grace Barn-Elms with never-dying verse! Smooth was the Thames, his waters fleeping lay, Unwak'd by winds that o'er the furface play; When th' early god, arifing from the East, Difclos'd the golden dawn, with blushes dreft. Firft in the ftream his own bright form he fees, But brighter forms fhine through the neighbouring
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