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Imploy'd their Wiles and unavailing Care,
Each Shape he varies, and each Art he tries,
A Female Form at last Vertumnus wears, With all the Marks of rev'rend Age appears, His Temples thinly spread with silver Hairs:.. Prop'd on his Staff, and stooping as he goes, A painted Mitre shades his furrow'd Brows. The God, in this decrepit Form array'd, The Gardens enter'd, and the Fruits survey'd, And happy Tou! (hé thus:address’d the Maid) Whose Charms as far all other Nymphs out-shine, As other Gardens are excell'd by thine ! Then kiss'd the Fair; (his Kisses warmer grow Than such as Women on their Sex bestów.) Then plac'd beside her on the flow'ry Ground, Beheld the Trees with Autumn's Bounty crown’d
An Elm was near, to whose Embraces led,
Yet this tall Elm, but for his Vine (he said) Had stood neglected and a barren Shade; And this fair Vine, but that her Arms surround Her marry'd Elm, had crept along the Ground. Ah beauteous Maid, let this Example move Your Mind, averse from all the Jays of Love. Deign to be lov'd, and ev'ry Heart subdue!
[you? What Nymph cou'd e'er attract such Crowds as Not fhe whose Beauty urg'd the Centaur's Arms, Vyres' Queen, nor Helen's fatal Charms.
Ev'n now, when silent Scorn is all they gain, tü. A thousand court you, tho' they court in vain,
A thousand Sylvans, Demigods, and Gods,
alone fhall thare
Add, that he varies ev'ry Shape with ease, And tries all Forms, that may Pomona pleafe. But what shou'd most excite a mutual Flame, Your Rural Cares, and Pleasures, are the fame. To him your Orchards early Fruits are due, (A pleasing Offring when 'tis made by you;) He values these ; but yet (álas) complains, That still the best and dearest Gift remains. Not the fair Fruit that on yon Branches glows With that ripe red th' Autumnal Sun bestows, Nor tastful Herbs that in these Gardens rife, Which the kind Soil with milky Sap fùpplies; You, only you, can move the God's Defire: Oh crown so constant and so pure a Fire! Let foft Compassion touch your gentle Mind's Think, 'tis Vertumnus begs you to be kind! So may no Frost, when early Buds appear, Deftroy the Promise of the youthful Year; K 4