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Tgmalion loathing their lafcivious

Life,

Abhorr'd all Womankind, but most

a Wife:

So fingle chofe to live, and shunn'd to wed,
Well pleas'd to want a Confort of his Bed.
Yet fearing Idlenefs, the Nurse of Ill,
In Sculpture exercis'd his happy Skill;
And carv'd in Iv'ry fuch a Maid, so fair,
As Nature could not with his Art compare,
Were the to work; but in her own Defence
Muft take her Pattern here, and copy hence.
Pleas'd with his Idol, he commends, admires,
Adores; and last, the Thing ador'd, defires.
A very Virgin in her Face was feen,

And had she mov'd, a living Maid had been: One wou'd have thought she cou'd have stirr'd; but ftrove

With Modefty, and was afham'd to move.
Art hid with Art, fo well perform'd the Cheat,
It caught the Carver with his own Deceit:

He knows 'tis Madness, yet he must adore,

And still the more he knows it, loves the more: The Flesh, or what fo feems, he touches oft, Which feels fo fmooth, that he believes it foft. Fir'd with this Thought, at once he strain❜d the Breast,

And on the Lips a burning Kifs imprefs'd.

'Tis true, the harden'd Breast resists the Gripe,
And the cold Lips return a Kifs unripe:
But when, retiring back, he look'd again,
To think it Iv'ry, was a Thought too mean:
So wou'd believe the kifs'd, and courting more,
Again embrac'd her naked Body o'er;

And straining hard the Statue, was afraid

1

His Hands had made a Dint, and hurt his Maid:
Explor'd her, Limb by Limb, and fear'd to find
So rude a Gripe had left a livid Mark behind:
With Flatt'ry now he feeks her Mind to move,
And now with Gifts,(the pow'rful Bribes of Love:)
He furnishes her Closet firft; and fills
The crowded Shelves with Rarities of Shells;
Adds Orient Pearls, which from the Conchs he
And all the sparkling Stones of variousHue: [drew,

And Parrots, imitating Human Tongue,

And Singing-birds in Silver Cages hung;
And ev'ry fragrant Flow'r, and od'rous Green,
Were forted well, with Lumps of Amber laid

between:

Rich, fashionable Robes her Perfon deck,

Pendants her Ears, and Pearls adorn her Neck:
Her taper'd Fingers too with Rings are grac'd,
And an embroider'd Zone furrounds her flender
Waste.

Thus like a Queen array'd, fo richly drefs'd,
Beauteous fhe fhew'd, but naked fhew'd the beft.
Then, from the Floor, he rais'd a Royal Bed,
With Cov'rings of Sydonian Purple spread:
The Solemn Rites perform'd, he calls her Bride,
With Blandishments invites her to his Side,
And as fhe were with Vital Senfe poffefs'd,

Her Head did on a Plumy Pillow rest.

The Feast of Venus came, a Solemn Day,

To which the Cypriots due Devotion pay;

With gilded Horns the Milk-white Heifer's led, Slaughter'd before the facred Altars, bled:

Pygmalion off'ring, first, approach'd the Shrine, And then with Pray'rs implor'd the Pow'rs Divine; Almighty Gods, if all we Mortals want,

If all we can require, be yours to grant;

Make this fair Statue mine, he wou'd have faid, But chang'd his Words, for fhame; and only pray'd, Give me the Likeness of my Iv'ry Maid.

The Golden Goddess, prefent at the Pray'r, Well knew he meant th' inanimated Fair, And gave the Sign of granting his Defire; For thrice in chearful Flames afcends the Fire. The Youth, returning to his Mistress, hies, And impudent in Hope, with ardent Eyes, And beating Breast, by the dear Statue lies. He kiffes her white Lips, renews the Blifs, And looks, and thinks they redden at the Kiss; He thought them warm before: Nor longer stays, But next his Hand on her hard Bosom lays: Hard as it was, beginning to relent,

It feem'd, the Breast beneath his Fingers bent; He felt again, his Fingers made a Print,

?Twas Flesh, but Flesh fo firm, it rose against O 3

the Dint:

The pleafing Task he fails not to renew;
Soft, and more foft at ev'ry Touch it grew;
Like pliant Wax, when chafing Hands reduce
The former Mass to Form, and frame for Use.
He would believe, but yet is still in pain,
And tries his Argument of Sense again,
Preffes the Pulfe, and feels the leaping Vein.
Convinc'd, o'erjoy'd, his studied Thanks and Praise,
To her who made the Miracle, he pays:

Then Lips to Lips he join'd; now freed from Fear,
He found the Savour of the Kifs fincere:

At this the waken'd Image op'd her Eyes,

And view'd at once the Light and Lover, with furprize.

The Goddess present at the Match she made,
So blefs'd the Bed, fuch Fruitfulness convey'd,
That ere ten Moons had sharpen'd either Horn,
To crown their Blifs, a lovely Boy was born;
Paphos his Name, who grown too Manhood, wall'd
The City Paphos, from the Founder call'd.