My paffions, and to quench my fiery rage,

By quaffing healths I've thought my flane t' affuage;
But Bacchus' full cups make my flames burn higher,
Add wine to love, and you add fire to fire.

To fhun the fight of many a wanton feat,
Betwixt your lord and you, I fhift my feat,
And turn my head; but thinking of your grace,
Love fcrews my head to gaze back on your face.
What were I beft to do? to see you play,
Mads me, and I perforce muft turn away;
And to forbear the place where you abide,
Would kill me dead, fhould I but start afide.
As much as lies in me, I ftrive to bury
The fhape of love, and in mirth's fpite feem merry.
But oh! the more I feek it to fupprefs,

The more my blabbing looks my love profefs.

You know my love which I in vain should hide; Would God it did appear to none befide! Oh Jove! how often have I turn'd my cheek, To hide th' apparent tears, that paffage feek From forth my eyes, and to a corner stept, Left any man should ask wherefore I wept. How often have I told you piteous tales, Of conftant lovers, and how love prevails? When fuch great heed to my difcourfe I took, That every accent fuited to your look. In forged names myself I reprefented : The lover fo perplex'd, and fo tormented, If you will know, behold I am the fame; Paris was meant in that true lover's name. As often, that I might the more fecurely, Speak loofe immodeft words, that found impurely, That they offenceless might your sweet ears touch, I've lifpt them up, like one had drunk too much.

Once I remember, your loofe veil betray'd

Your naked skin, and a fair paffage made

To my enamour'd eye: Oh! fkin much brighter
Thau fnow, or pureft milk, in colour whiter
Than your fair mother Læda, when Jove grac'd her,
And in the fhape of feather'd fwan embrac'd her.
Whilft at this ravishing fight I ftood amaz❜d,
And without interruption freely gaz'd,
The wreathed handle of the bowl I grasp'd,
Fell from my hold, my ftrengthlefs hand unclafp'd.
A goblet at that time I held by chance,
And down it fell, for I was in a trance.
Kifs your fair daughter, and to her I skip,
And fnatch your kiles from your fweet child's lip.
Sometimes I throw myfelf along, and lie,
Singing love-forgs; and if you caft your eye.
On my effeminate gefture, ftill find
Some pretty cover'd figns to speak my mind;
And then my earneft fuit bluntly invades
Athra and Climene, your two chief maids.
But they return me answers full of fear,
And to my motions lend no further ear.
Oh! that you were the prize of some great ftrife,
And he that wins, might claim you for his wife.
Hyppomenes with swift Atlanta ran,

And at one courfe the goal and lady won;

Even fhe, by whom fo many fuitors perifh'd,
Was in the bofom of her new love cherish'd.
So Hercules for Dejaneira ftrove,
Brake Achelous' horn, and gain'd his love..
Had I fuch liberty, fuch freedom granted,
My refolution never could be daunted.
Yourself fhould find, and all the world fhould fee,
Helen a prize alone referv'd for me.

1

prayer:

There is not left me any means (most fair)
To court you now, but by intreats and
Unlefs (as it becomes me) you think meet,
That I fhould proftrate fall, and kifs your feet.
Oh! all the honour, that our laft age wins,
Thou glory of the two Tindarian twins!
Worthy to be Jove's wife, in heaven to reign,
Were you not Jove's own daughter, of his ftrain.
To the Sygean confines I will carry thee,
And in the temple of great Pallas marry thee; -
Or in this island where I vent my moans,

I'll beg a tomb for my exiled bones.

My wound is not a flight raze with an arrow,
But it hath pierc'd, my heart and burnt my marrow. -
This prophecy my fister oft hath founded,
That by an heavenly dart I should be wounded,
Oh! then forbear (fair Helen !) to oppofe you
Against the gods, they fay I fhall not lofe you..
Yield you to their beheft, and you shall find
The gods to your petitions likewise kind.
A thousand things at once are in my brain,
Which that I may effentially complain,
And not in papers empty all my head,
Anon at night receive me to your bed..
Blush you at this? or lady do you fear
To violate the nuptial laws auftere?
Oh! fimple Helen! foolish I might say,
What profit reap you to be chalte I pray?
Is't poffible, that you a world to win,
Should keep that face, that beauty without fin?:
Rather you muft your glorious face exchange
For one (lefs fair) or elfe not feem fo ftrange...
Beauty and chastity at variance are,

"Tis hard to find one woman chafte and fair..

Venus will not have beauty over-aw'd,.
High Jove himself ftolen pleasures will applaud;:
And by fuch thievish pastimes we may gather
How Jove 'gainft wedlock's laws became your father..
He and your mother Læda both tranfgrefs'd,
When you were got the bare a tender breast.
What glory can you gain love-fweets to fmother?.
Or to be counted chafter than your mother?
Profefs ftrict chastity, when with great joy,
I lead you as my bride-efpous'd thro' Troy.
Then I intreat you rein your pleasures in,
I wish thy Paris may be all thy fin.
If Citherea her firm covenant keep,.
Tho' I within your bofom nightly fleep,
We fhall not much mifdo, but fo offend,
That we by marriage may our guilt amend.

Your husband hath himself this bufinefs aided,
And tho' (not with his tongue) he hath persuaded,.
By all his deeds (as much) left he should stay
Our private meetings, he is far away,
Of purpofe rid unto the fartheft West,
That he might leave his wife unto his gueft..
No fitter time he could have found to vifit
The Chrifean royal fcepter, and to feize it.
Ah! fimple, fimple hufband! but he's gone,
And going, left you this to think upon.
Fair wife (quoth he).I prithee in my place
Regard the Trojan prince, and do him grace.
Behold, a witnefs I against you ftand,

You have been carelefs of this kind command.
Count from his first day's journey, never fince.
Did you regard or grace the Trojan prince.
What think you of your husband? that he knows.
The worth and value of the face he owes ?

Who (but a fool) fuch beauty would endanger?
Or trust it to the mercy of a ftranger?
Then, royal queen! if neither may intreat,
My quenchless paffion, nor love's raging heat
Can win you; we are woo'd both to this crime,
Even by the fit advantage of the time;
Either to love fweet fport we must agree,
Or fhew ourselves to be worfe fools than he.
He took you by the hand the hour he rode,
And knowing I with you must make abode,
Brings you to me; what fhould I further say?
It was his mind to give you quite away.

What meant he elfe? then let's be blithe and jolly, And make the best use of your husband's folly. What thould we do? your husband is far gone, And this cold night (poor foul) you lie alone. I want a bedfellow, fo do we either, What lets us then, but that we lie together? You flumb'ring think on me, on you I dream, Both our defires are fervent and extreme. Sweet, then appoint the night, why do you ftay? O night! more clearer than the brighteft day. Then I dare freely speak, protest, and swear, And of my vows the gods fhall record bear, Then will I feal the contract and the ftrife, From that day forward we are man and wife : Then queflionless I fhall fo far perfuade, That you with me fhall Troy's rich coaft invade,.. And with your Phrygian gueft at laft agree, Our potent kingdom, and rich crown to fee. But if you (blufhing) fear the vulgar bruit,

That fays you follow me, to me make fuit,,