She never feels the spleen's imagin'd pains,
Nor melancholy ftagnates in her veins ;
She never lofes life in thoughtless ease,
Nor on the velvet couch invites difeafe;
Her home-spun dress in fimple neatness lies,
And for no glaring equipage the fighs :
Her reputation, which is all her boast,

420

In a malicious vifit ne'er was loft;

No midnight masquerade her beauty wears,

And health, not paint, the fading bloom repairs.

425

If love's foft paffion in her bosom reign,

An equal paffion warms her happy fwain
No homebred jars her quiet state control,
Nor watchful jealoufy torments her foul;
With fecret joy she fees her little race
Hang on her breast, and her small cottage grace;
The fleecy ball their busy fingers cull,

Or from the spindle draw the lengthening wool:
Thus flow her hours with conftant peace of mind,
Till age the latest thread of life unwind.

Ye happy fields, unknown to noise and strife,
The kind rewarders of industrious life;
Ye fhady woods, where once I us'd to rove,
Alike indulgent to the Muse and Love ;
Ye murmuring streams that in mæanders roll,
The fweet composers of the penfive soul;
Farewell! The city calls me from your bowers:
Farewell, amufing thoughts and peaceful hours!

430

435

440

THE

THE FAN.

A POE Μ.

1 N

THREE

BOOKS.

ἔνθα δέ οἱ θελκτήρια πάντα τέτυκτο

Ενθ ̓ ἔνι μὲν φιλότης, ἐν δ ̓ ἵμερῶν, ἐν δ ̓ ἐαρισὺς,
Πάρφασις, ἥ τ' ἔκλεψε νέον πύκα σερ φρονεόντων

Τὸν ῥύ οι ἔμβαλι χερσίν.

Hoм. Iliad. xiv. 215.

VOL. I

THE FA N.

воок I.

SING that graceful toy, whofe waving play
With gentle gales relieves the fultry day ;
Not the wide fan by Perfian dames difplay'd,
Which o'er their beauty cafts a grateful shade;
Nor that long known in China's artful land,
Which, while it cools the face, fatigues the hand:
Nor fhall the Mufe in Afian climates rove,
To seek in Indoftan some spicy grove,
Where, ftretch'd at cafe, the panting lady lies,
To fhun the fervor of meridian-fkies,
While fweating flaves catch every breeze of air,
And with wide-fpreading fans refresh the fair;
No bufy gnats her pleafing dreams moleft,
Inflame her cheek, or ravage o'er her breaft ts
But artificial zephyrs round her fly,
And mitigate the fever of the sky.

Nor fhall Bermudas long the Mufe detain,
Whofe fragrant forefts bloom in Waller's ftrain,
Where breathing sweets from every field afcend,
And the wild woods with golden apples bend.
Yet let me in fome odorous fhade repofe,
Whilft in my verfe the fair palmetto grows:
Like the tall pine it fhoots its ftately head;
From the broad top depending branches spread;

No knotty limbs the taper body bears;

Hung on each bough a fingle leaf appears,
Which, fhrivel'd in its infancy, remains
Like a clos'd fan, nor ftreiches wide its veins,
But, as the feafons in their circle run,

25

Opes its ribb'd furface to the nearer fun :
P'eneath this hade the weary peafant lies,

30

Plucks the broad leaf, and bids the breezes rise.

Stay, wandering Mufe! nor rove in foreign climes ;

To thy own native fhore confine thy rhymes.

35

Affift, ye Nine, your loftieft notes employ;
Say what celeftial skill contriv'd the toy;
Say how this inftrument of Love began,
And in immortal ftrains difplay the Fan.

Strephon had long confefs'd his amorous pain,

Which gay Corinna raillied with difdain:
Sometimes in broken words he figh'd his care,

40

Look'd pale, and trembled when he view'd the fair;
With bolder freedoms now the youth advanc'd,

45

He drefs'd, he laugh'd, he fung, he rhym'd, he dane'd;
Now call'd more powerful prefents to his aid,
And, to feduce the miftrefs, brib'd the maid;
Smooth flattery in her fofter hours apply'd,
The fureft charm to bend the force of pride:
But ftill unmov'd remains the scornful dame,
Infults her captive, and derides his flame.
When Strephon faw his vows difpers'd in air,
He fought in folitude to lose his care;
Relief in folitude he fought in vain,

50

It ferv'd, like mufick, but to feed his pain.

Το