That proffer'd laurels, promis'd fov'reignty,
Juno and Pallas you contemn'd for me.
Am I your empire then, and your renown?
What heart of rock but must by this be won?
And yet bear witness, O ye Pow'rs above!
How rude I am in all the arts of love;
My hand is yet untaught to write to men,
This is th' effay of my unpractis'd pen:

135

140

Happy those nymphs whom use has perfect made; I think all crime, and tremble at a fhade:

Ev'n while I write, my fearful conscious eyes
Look often back, misdoubting a surprise;

For now the rumour spreads among the crowd, 145
At court in whispers, but in town aloud.

Diffemble you whate'er you hear them fay:
To leave off loving were your better way;
Yet if you will diffemble it you may.
Love fecretly: the absence of my lord

More freedom gives, but does not all afford:
Long is his journey, long will be his stay,
Call'd by affairs of confequence away :

}

To go or not, when unresolv'd he stood,

I bid him make what fwift return he could:

Then kifling me, he faid, "I recommend
"All to thy care, but moft my Trojan friend.”
I fmil'd at what he innocently faid,

And only anfwer'd, "You shall be obey'd."

155

Propitious winds have borne him far from hence, 160 But let not this fecure your confidence:

Absent he is, yet abfent he commands:

You know the proverb, "Princes have long hands."
My fame 's my burden, for the more I'm prais'd
A juster ground of jealousy is rais'd:

Were I lefs fair I might have been more bleft;
Great beauty thro' great danger is poffest.
To leave nie here his venture was not hard,
Because he thought my virtue was my guard:
He fear'd my face, but trufted to my life;
The beauty doubted, but believ'd the wife.
You bid me ufe th' occafion while I can
Put in our hands by the good eafy man.

I would, and yet I doubt 'twixt love and fear;

165

170

One draws me from you, and one brings me near.

Our flames are mutual, and my husband's gone; 176 The nights are long; I fear to lie alone:

180

One houfe contains us, and weak walls divide,
And you 're too preffing to be long deny'd.
Let me not live but ev'ry thing confpires
To join our loves, and yet my fear retires.
You court with words when you fhould force employ

A rape is requifite to shame-fac'd joy :

Indulgent to the wrongs which we receive,
Our fex can fuffer what we dare not give.
What have I faid! for both of us 't were best

Our kindling fire if each of us fuppreft.

185

Let heroes in the dufty field delight,
Thofe limbs were fafhion'd for another fight:
Bid Hector fally from the walls of Troy;
A fweeter quarrel fhould your arms employ.
Yet fears like these should not my mind perplex,
Were I as wife as many of my fex:

245

But time and you may bolder thoughts infpire, 250 And I, perhaps, may yield to your desire.

You last demand a private conference:

Thefe are your words; but I can guess your fenfe.
Your unripe hopes their harvest must attend:
Be rul'd by me, and Time may be your friend. 255
This is enough to let you understand,

For now my pen has tir'd my tender hand;
My woman knows the fecret of my heart,
And may hereafter better news impart.

259

PART OF THE

STORY OF ORPHEUS.

Being a tranflation out of the fourth book of Virgil's Georgic.

'Tis not for nothing when just Heav'n does frown;
The injur'd Orpheus calls these judgments down,
Whose spouse, avoiding to become thy prey,
And all his joys at once, were snatch'd away:

The nymph, fore-doom'd that fatal way to pass,
Spy'd not the serpent lurking in the grafs :
A mournful cry the spacious valley fills

With echoing groans from all the neighb'ring hills; The Dryades roar out in deep despair,

And with united voice bewail the fair.

5

ΙΟ

15

20

For fuch a lofs he fought no vain relief, But with his lute indulg'd the tender grief; Along the fhore he oft' would wildly stray, With doleful notes begin and end the day: At length to hell a frightful journey made, Pafs'd the wide-gaping gulf and dismal shade, Vifits the ghofts, and to that king repairs Whole heart's inflexible to human pray'rs. All hell is ravish'd with fo fweet a fong; Light fouls and airy fpirits glide along In troops, like millions of the feather'd kind, Driv'n home by night, or fome tempestuous wind; Matrons and men, raw youths and unripe maids, And mighty heroes' more majestic shades, And fons entomb'd before their parents' face, These the black waves of bounding Styx embrace Nine times circumfluent, clogg'dwith noisome weeds, And all that filth which standing water breeds : Amazement reach'd ev'n the deep caves of Death, The Sifters with blue fnaky curls took breath, Ixion's wheel a while unmov'd remain'd,

25

30

And the fierce dog his three-mouth'd voice restrain’d.

Let heroes in the dufty field delight,

Those limbs were fashion'd for another fight:
Bid Hector fally from the walls of Troy;
A fweeter quarrel fhould your arms employ.
Yet fears like these should not my mind perplex,
Were I as wife as many of my

fex:

245

But time and you may bolder thoughts infpire, 250 And I, perhaps, may yield to your defire.

You laft demand a private conference:

These are your words; but I can guess your fenfe.
Your unripe hopes their harvest must attend:
Be rul'd by me, and Time may be your friend. 255
This is enough to let you understand,

For now my pen has tir'd my tender hand;
My woman knows the fecret of my heart,
And may hereafter better news impart.

259

PART OF THE

STORY OF ORPHEUS.

Being a tranflation out of the fourth book of Virgil's Georgit.

'Tis not for nothing when just Heav'n does frown;
The injur'd Orpheus calls these judgments down,
Whose spouse, avoiding to become thy prey,
And all his joys at once, were fnatch'd

away: