TenBrace, and more, of Greyhounds, fnowy fair, And tall as Stags, ran loose, and cours'd around his Chair, [Bear:
A Match for Pards in flight, in grappling, for the WithGoldenMuzzles all their Mouths were bound, And Collars of the fame their Necks furround. Thus thro' the Fields Lycurgus took his Way; His hundred Knights attend in Pomp and proud Array.
To match this Monarch, with ftrong Arcite came Emetrius King of Inde, a mighty Name,
On a Bay Courfer, goodly to behold,
The Trappings of his Horse embofs'd with barb'rous
Not Mars beftrode a Steed with greater Grace;
His Surcoat o'er his Arms was Cloth of Thrace,
Adorn'd with Pearls, all Orient, round, and great;
His Saddle was of Gold, with Emeralds fet.
His Shoulders large a Mantle did attire,
With Rubies thick, and sparkling as the Fire:
His Amber-colour'd Locks in Ringlets run,
With graceful Negligence, and fhone against the
His Nofe was Aquiline, his Eyes were blue,
Ruddy his Lips, and fresh and fair his Hue:
Some sprinkled Freckles on his Face were feen,
Whofe Dusk fet off the Whitenefs of the Skin:
His awful Prefence did the Crowd furprize,
Nor durft the rash Spectator meet his Eyes,
Eyes that confefs'd him born for Kingly Sway,
So fierce, they flash'd intolerable Day.
His Age in Nature's youthful Prime appear'd,
And just began to bloom his yellow Beard.
Whene'er he spoke, his Voice was heard around,
Loud as a Trumpet, with a Silver Sound.
A Laurel wreath'd his Temples, fresh, and green;
And Myrtle-fprigs, theMarks of Love, were mix'd
[between.
Upon his Fift he bore, for his Delight,
An Eagle well reclaim'd, and Lilly-white.
His hundred Knights attend him to the War,
All arm'd for Battel; fave their Heads were bare.
Words and Devices blaz'd on ev'ry Shield,
And pleasing was the Terrour of the Field.
For Kings, and Dukes, and Barons you might fee,
Like sparkling Stars, though diff'rent in Degree,
All for th' Increase of Arms,andLove of Chivalry.
F
Before the King, tame Leopards led the way,
And Troops of Lions innocently play.
So Bacchus through the conquer'd Indies rode,
And Beafts in Gambols frisk'd before their honeft
In this Array the War of either Side
[God.
Through Athens pass'd with Military Pride.
At Prime, they enter'd on the Sunday Morn;
Rich Tap'stry spread the Streets, and Flow'rs the
[Pots adorn.
The Town was all a Jubilee of Feasts ;
So Thefeus will'd, in Honour of his Guests:
Himself with open Arms the Kings embrac❜d,
Then all the rest in their Degrees were grac❜d.
No Harbinger was needful for the Night,
For ev'ry House was proud to lodge a Knight.
I pafs the Royal Treat, nor must relate
The Gifts bestow'd, nor how the Champions fate;
Who firft, who laft, or how the Knights addrefs'd
Their Vows, or who was faireft at the Feaft;
Whose Voice, whofe graceful Dance did most fur-
Soft am'rous Sighs, and filent Love of Eyes.
[prife,
The Rivals call my Muse another way,
To fing their Vigils for th' enfuing Day.
'Twas ebbing Darkness, past the Noon of Night; And Phospher on the Confines of the Light, Promis'd the Sun, ere Day began to spring
The tuneful Lark already stretch'd her Wing, And flick'ring on her Neft, made short Effays to fing.
When wakeful Palamon, preventing Day, Took, to the Royal Lifts, his early way, To Venus at her Fane, in her own Houfe to pray. There, falling on his Knees before her Shrine, He thus implor'd with Pray'rs her Pow'r Divine. Creator Venus, Genial Pow'r of Love,
The Blifs of Men below; and Gods above, Beneath the fliding Sun thou runn'st thy Race, Dost fairest shine, and best become thy Place. For thee the Winds their Eastern Blasts forbear, Thy Month reveals the Spring, and opens all the Year.
Thee, Goddefs, thee the Storms of Winter fly," Earth fmiles with Flow'rs renewing; laughs the
And Birds to Lays of Love their tuneful Notes
For thee the Lion loaths the Taste of Blood,
And roaring hunts his Female through the Wood:
For thee the Bulls rebellow through the Groves,
And tempt theStream,and snufftheir absent Loves.
'Tis thine, whate'er is pleasant, good, or fair :
All Nature is thy Province, Life thy Care ;
Thou mad'It the World,and doft the World repair.
Thou Gladder of the Mount of Cytheron,
Increase of Jove, Companion of the Sun;
If e’er Adonis touch'd thy tender Heart,
Have Pity, Goddess, for thou know'st the Smart:
Alas! I have not Words to tell
my
Grief; To vent my Sorrow wou'd be some Relief: Light Suff'rings give us leisure to complain ; We groan, but cannot speak, in greater Pain. O Goddess, tell thy self what I would say, Thou know'st it, and I feel too much to pray. So grant my Suit, as I enforce my Might, In Love to be thy Champion, and thy Knight; A Servant to thy Sex, a Slave to thee, A Foe profest to barren Chastity. Nor ask I Fame or Honour of the Field, Nor chuse I more to vanquish, than to yield:
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