My faultlefs form the Lesbian nymphs adore!
Avow their flames, weep, figh, proteft, implore.
There feel I firft the penance of my sin;
All spring without, and winter all within!
From me the fenfe of gay defire is fled,
And all their charms are cordial to the dead..
Or if within my breaft there chance to rife
The fweet remembrance of the genial joys.;
Sudden it leaves like a tranfient gleam

me,

That gilds the furface of a freezing stream.
Meantime with various pangs my heart is torn,,
Hate ftrives with Pity, Shame contends with Scorn:
Confus'd with grief, I quit the court, to range
In favage wilds; and curfe my penal change.......
The phoenix fo, reftor'd with rich perfumes,
Difplays the florid pride of all his plumes; i
Then flies to live amid th' Arabian grove, ........
In barren folitude, a foe to love..

་་་

But, in the calm recefs of woods and plains,

The viper Envy revel'd in my veins;

And ever

When

the male carefs'd his bride,.
Sighing with rage, I turned my eyes afide..
In river, mead, and grove, fuch objects rofe,
T'avenge the goddefs, and awake my woes;
Fish, beaft, and bird, in river, mead, and grove,
Blefs'd and rever'd the blissful powers of Love.

What can I do for eafe, whither fly?
Refume my fatal form, ye gods, I cry:
Wither this beauteous bloom, fo tempting gay;
And let me live transform'd to weak, and gray!

By

By change of clime my forrows to beguile,
I leave for Sicily my native isle :

Vain hope! for who can leave himself behind;
And live a thoughtless exile from the mind?
Arriving there, amidst a flowery plain

That join'd the fhore, I view'd a virgin-train ;
Who in foft ditties fung of Acis' flame,

1

And ftrew'd with annual wreaths his amber ftream.
Me foon they faw, and, fir'd with pious joy,
He comes, the god-like Acis comes, they cry:,,
Fair pride of Neptune's court, indulge our prayer;
Approach, you've now no Polypheme to fear :
Accept our rites: to bind thy brow, we bring
Thefe earliest honours of the rofy spring :
So may thy Galatea ftill be kind,

As we thy fimiling power propitious find !,
But if (they read their error in my blush;
For fhame, and rage, and scorn, alternate flush)
But if of earthy race, yet kinder prove;
Refufe all other rites, but those of Love.
That hated word new-ftabs my rankling wound;
Like a ftuck deer I startle at the found:
Thence to the woods with furious speed repair,
And leave them all abandon'd to defpair.

So, frighted by the fwains, to reach the brake
Glides from a funny bank the glittering fnake :
And whilft, reviv'd in youth, his wavy train.
Floats in large fpires, and burns along the plain;
He darts malignance from his scornful eye,
And the young flowers with livid hiffes die.

Let my fad fate

your

foft compaffion move,

Convinc'd that Phaon would, but cannot lore :
To torture and diftract my foul, are join'd
Unfading youth, and impotence of mind.
The white and red that flatter on my skin,
Hide hell; the grinning Furies howl within;
Pride, Envy, Rage, and Hate inhabit there,
And the black child of Guilt, extreme Despair
Nor of lefs terror to the perjur'd prove
The frowns of Venus, than the bolts of Jove.
When Orpheus in the woods began to play,
Sooth'd with his airs the leopards round him lay:
Their glaring eyes with leffen'd fury burn'd;
But when the lyre was mute, their rage return'd:
So would thy Mufe and lute a while controul
My woes, and tune the difcord of my foul:
In fweet fufpence cach savage thought restrain'd;
And then, the love I never felt I feign'd.
O Sappho, now that Mufe and lute employ ;
Invoke the golden goddefs from the sky:
From the Leucadian rock ne'er hope redress ;
In love, Apollo boafts no fure fuccefs :
Let him prefide o'er oracles and arts;
Venus alone hath balm for bleeding hearts.
O, let the warbled hymn* delight her ear;
Can fhe when Sappho fings refufe to hear!
Thrice let the warbled hymn repeat thy pain,
While flowers and burning gums perfume her fans.

* Alluding to her Ode to Venus.

And

And when, defcending to the plaintive found,
She comes confefs'd with all her Graces round;
O, plead my cause in that aufpicious hour,
Propitiate with thy vows the vengeful power.
Nor ceafe thy fuit, till with a fmiling air
She cries, I give my Phaon to thy prayer:
And, from his crime abfolv'd, with all his charms
He long fhall live, and die in Sappho's arms.---
Then fwift, and gentle as her gentlest dove,
I'll feek thy breast, and equal all thy love :
Hymen fhall clap his purple wings, and spread
Inceffant raptures o'er the nuptial bed.

And while in pomp at Cytherea's fhrine,
With choral fong and dance, our vows we join ;
Her flaming altar with religious fear

I'll touch, and proftrate on the marble, fwear
That zeal and love for ever shall divide

My heart, between the goddefs and the bride.

GENTIL MAISTER JEOFFREY CHAUCER.

W Hylom in Kent there dwelt a clerke,

Who wyth grete cheer, and litil werke,

Upfwalen was with venere:

For meagre Lent ne recked he,

Ne faincts daies had in remembraunce,

Mo will had he to daliaunce.

To ferchen out a bellamie,

He had a fharp and licorous eie;
But it wold bett abide a leke,

Or onion, than the fight of Greke :
Wherefore, God yeve him shame, Boccace
Serv'd him for Bafil and Ignace,

His vermeil cheke that fhon wyth mirth,
Spake him the blitheft prieft on yearth:
At chyrch, to fhew his lillied hond,
Full fetoufly he prank'd his bond;
Sleke weren his flaxen locks ykempt,
And Ifaac Weyer was he nempt.

Thilke clerke, echaufed in the groyne,
For a young damofell did pyne,
Born in Eaft-Cheap; who, by my fay,
Ypert was as a popinjay :

Ne wit ne wordes did the waunt,
Wele cond the many a romaunt;
Ore mufcadine, or fpiced ale,
She carrold foote as nightingale :
And for the nonce couth rowle her eyne,
Withouten fpeche; a fpeciall figne

She lack'd fomdele of what ech dame
Holds dere as life, yet dredes to name :
So was eftfoons by Ifaac won,

To blifsful confummation.

Here mought I now tellen' the festes,

Who yave the bryde, how bibb'd the gheftes;