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Of MUSIDORA's cruelty complain'd.
She felt his flame; but deep within her breaft,
In bashful coyness, or in maiden pride,
The soft return conceal'd; save when it stole
In fide-long glances from her downcast eye,
Or from her swelling foul in ftified fighs
Touch'd by the scene, no stranger to his vows,
He fram'd a melting lay, to try her heart;
And, if an infant paffion struggled there,
To call that passion forth. Thrice happy swain !
A lucky chance, that oft decides the fate
Of mighty monarchs, then decided thine.
For lo! conducted by the laughing Loves,
This cool retreat his Musidora fought :
Warm in her cheek the fultry feafon glow'd;
And, rob’d in loose array, she came to bathe
Her fervent limbs in the refreshing stream.
What shall he do? In sweet confusion loft,
And dubious flutterings, he a while remain’d;
A pure ingenuous elegance of foul,
A delicate refinement, known to few,
Perplex'd his breast, and urg'd him to retire :
But love forbade. Ye prudes in virtue, say,
Say, ye fevereft, what would you have done?
Meantime, this fairer nymph than ever bleft

Arcadian stream, with timid eye

around The banks surveying, stripp'd her beauteous limbs, To taste the lucid coolness of the flood. Ah then! not Paris on the piny top Of Ida panted stronger, when aside The rival.goddesses the veil divine Caft unconfin'd, and gave him all their charms, Than, Damon, thou; as from the snowy leg, And Nender foot, th’inverted filk she drew; As the soft touch diffolv'd the virgin zone ; And, thro’ the parting robe, th'alternate breast, With youth wild-throbbing, on thy lawless gaze In full luxuriance rose. But, desperate youth, How durft thou risk the foul-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 thro' 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 madning draughts of beauty to the soul,
As for a while o'erwhelm'd his raptur'd thought
With luxury too-daring. Check'd, at last,
By love's respeclful modesty, he deem'd
The theft profane, if aught profane to love
Can e'er be deem'd; and, ftruggling 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 fave 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 ftands the statue * that enchants the world,
So bending tries to veil the matchless boast,

The Venus of Medici.

The mingled beauties of exulting Greece.
Recovering, swift she few to find those robes
Which blissful Eden knew not; and, array'd
In careless hafte, th'alarming paper snatch'd.
But, when her Damon's well-known hand she saw,
Her terrors vanish'd, and a softer train
Of mixt emotions, hard to be describ'd,
Her sudden bosom seiz'd: shame void of guilt,
The charming blush of innocence, esteem
And admiration of her lover's flame,
By modesty exalted : even a sense
Of felf-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 filvan pen
Of rural lovers this confession carv’d,
Which sogn her Damon kiss’d with weeping joy :
“ 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,

Lights up the clouds, those beauteous robes of heaven,
Inceffant 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
To seek the distant hills, and there converse
With Nature; there to harmonize his heart,
And in pathetic fong to breathe around
The harmony to others. Social friends,
Attun'd to happy unifon of foul;
To whose exalting eye a fairer world,
Of which the vulgar never had a glimpse,
Displays its charms; whose minds are richly fraught
With philofophic stores, superior light;
And in whofe breast, enthufiaftic, 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,

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