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And, through the parting robe, the alternate breast,
With youth wild-throbbing, on thy lawless gaze
In full luxuriance rose. But, desperate youth,
How durst thou risk the soul-distracting view,
As from her naked limbs, of glowing white,
Harmonious swell'd by Nature's finest hand,
In folds loose-floating fell the fainter lawn,
And fair-expos'd she stood shrunk from herself,
With fancy blushing, at the doubtful breeze
Alarm'd, and starting like the fearful fawn?

Then to the flood she rush'd: the parted flood

Its lovely guest with closing waves receiv'd;

And

every beauty softening, every grace
Flushing anew, a mellow lustre shed-
As shines the lily through the crystal mild,
Or as the rose amid the morning dew,

Fresh from Aurora's hand, more sweetly glows.
While thus she wanton'd, now beneath the wave
But ill-conceal'd, and now with streaming locks,
That half-embrac'd her in a humid veil,

Rising again, the latent Damon drew

Such maddening draughts of beauty to the soul,

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As for a while o'erwhelm'd his raptur'd thought
With luxury too daring. Check'd, at last,
By love's respectful modesty, he deem'd

The theft profane, if aught profane to love

Can e'er be deem'd, and, struggling from the shade,
With headlong hurry fled; but first these lines,
Trac'd by his ready pencil, on the bank

With trembling hand he threw: "Bathe on, my fair,

Yet unbeheld save by the sacred eye

Of faithful love: I go to guard thy haunt;

To keep from thy recess each vagrant foot,

And each licentious eye." With wild surprise,

As if to marble struck, devoid of sense,

A stupid moment motionless she stood :

So stands the statue 13 that enchants the world;
So bending tries to veil the matchless boast,
The mingled beauties of exulting Greece.
Recovering, swift she flew to find those robes
Which blissful Eden knew not; and, array'd
In careless haste, the alarming paper snatch'd.
But when her Damon's well-known hand she saw,
Her terrors vanish'd, and a softer train

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By modesty exalted. Even a sense

Of self-approving beauty stole across

Her busy thought. At length, a tender calm
Hush'd by degrees the tumult of her soul;

And on the spreading beech, that o'er the stream
Incumbent hung, she with the sylvan pen

Of rural lovers this confession carv'd,

Which soon her Damon kiss'd with weeping joy:

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"Dear youth! sole judge of what these verses mean, By fortune too much favour'd, but by love,

Alas! not favour'd less, be still as now

Discreet; the time may come you need not fly."

The sun has lost his rage: his downward orb Shoots nothing now but animating warmth,

And vital lustre; that, with various ray,

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Lights up the clouds, those beauteous robes of heaven,
Incessant roll'd into romantic shapes,

The dream of waking fancy! Broad below,
Cover'd with ripening fruits, and swelling fast
Into the perfect year, the pregnant earth
And all her tribes rejoice. Now the soft hour
Of walking comes: for him who lonely loves

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To seek the distant hills, and there converse
With Nature; there to harmonise his heart,
And in pathetic song to breathe around
The harmony to others. Social friends,
Attun'd to happy unison of soul—

To whose exalting eye a fairer world,

Of which the vulgar never had a glimpse,

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Displays its charms-whose minds are richly fraught
With philosophic stores, superior light -
And in whose breast, enthusiastic, burns
Virtue the sons of interest deem romance,
Now call'd abroad enjoy the falling day :
Now to the verdant portico of woods,

To Nature's vast lyceum, forth they walk;

By that kind school where no proud master reigns,
The full free converse of the friendly heart,
Improving and improv'd. Now from the world,
Sacred to sweet retirement, lovers steal,

And pour their souls in transport, which the sire
Of love approving hears, and calls it good.
Which way, Amanda, shall we bend our course?

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The choice perplexes. Wherefore should we choose?

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