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Imploy'd their Wiles and unavailing Care,
To pass the Fences, and surprize the Fair?
But most Vertumnus did his Love profess,
With greater Passion, but with like Success;
To gain her Sight, a thousand Forms he wears,
And first a Reaper from the Field appears,
Sweating he walks, while Loads of golden Grain
O’ercharge the Shoulders of the seeming Swain.
Oft o'er his Back a crooked Scythe is laid,
And Wreaths of Hay his Sun-burntTemples shade;
Oft in his harden's Hand a Goad he bears,
Like one who late unyok'd the fweating Steers.
Sometimes bis Pruning-hook corrects the Vines,
And the loofe Straglers to their Ranks confines.
Now gath'ring what the bounteous Year allows,
He pulls ripe Apples from the bending Boughs.
Soldier now, he with his Sword appears;
Fisher next, his trembling Angle bears.

K 2

Each

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Each Shape he varies, and each Art he tries,
On her bright Charms to feast his longing Eyes.

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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,
The curling Vine her swelling Clusters spread;
He view'd their twining Branches with Delight,
And prais'd the Beauty of the pleasing Sight.

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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,

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A thousand Sylvans, Demigods, and Gods,
That haunt our Mountains and our Alban Woods.
But if you'll prosper, mark what I advise,
Whom Age and long Experience render wise,
And one whose tender Care is far above
All that these Lovers ever felt of Love,
(Far more than e'er can by your self be gueft)
Fix on Vertumnus, and reject the rest.
For his firm Faith I dare ingage my own,
Scarce to himfelf, himself is better known.
To distant Lands Vertumnus never roves;
Like you, contented with his Native Groves;
Nor at first sight, like most, admires the Fair;
For you he lives; and you

alone fhall thare
His last Affe&tion, as his early Care.
Besides, he's lovely far above the rest,
With Youth Immortal and with Beauty bleft,

Add,

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

Nor

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