Noble and young, who ftrikes the heart To cl.arm the Miftrefs, or to fix the Friend. Shall ftretch thy conquests over half the kind: To him each Rival fhall fubmit, Make but his Riches equal to his Wit. Then fhall thy Form the Marble grace, (Thy Grecian Form) and Chloe lend the Face: His House, embosom'd in the Grove, Sacred to focial life and focial love, Shall glitter o'er the pendent green, Where Thames reflects the vifionary scene: Thither the filver-founding lyres Shall call the fmiling Loves, and young Defires; There, Commiffabere Maximi; Si torrere jecur quaeris idoneum. Namque et nobilis, et decens, Et pro folicitis non tacitus reis, Et centum puer artium, Late figna feret militiae tuae. Et, quandoque potentior Largis muneribus riferit aemuli, Albanos prope te lacus Ponet marmoream fub trabe citrea. -Illic plurima naribus Duces thura; lyraque et Berecynthiae There, every Grace and Muse shall throng, For me the vernal garlands bloom no more. The ftill-believing, ftill renew'd defire; Adieu! the heart-expanding bowl, And all the kind Deceivers of the foul! But why? ah tell me, ah too dear! Steals down my cheek th' involuntary Tear?? Why words fo flowing, thoughts fo free, Stop, or turn nonsense, at one glance of thee? Thee, drefs'd in Fancy's airy beam, Abfent I follow through th' extended Dream; Delectabere tibia Mixtis carminibus, non fine fiftula. Illic bis pueri die Numen cum teneris virginibus tuum : Laudantes, pede candido In morem Salium ter quatient humum. Me nec femina, nec puer Jam, nec fpes animi credula mutui, Nec certare juvat mero, Nec vincire novis tempora floribus. Y Now Now, now I cease, I clasp thy charms, And now you burft (ah cruel!) from my arms And now on rolling waters fnatch'd away. Cur facunda parum decoro Nocturnis te ego fomniis Jam captum teneo, jam volucrem fequor Te per gramina Martii Campi, te per aquas, dure, volubiles.. Part Part of the NINTH ODE Of the FOURTH BOOK.. A FRAGMEN T. L' EST you should think that verse shall die, Though daring Milton fits fublime, In Spenfer native Mufes play; Nor yet fhall Waller yield to time, Nor penfive Cowley's moral lay 1 Sages and Chiefs long fince had birth N E forte credas interitura, quae Longe fonantem natus ad Aufidum Non ante vulgatas per artes Verba loquor focianda chordis; Non, fi priores Maeonius tenet Stefichorique graves Camenae: Nec fi quid olim lufit Anacreon, Thefe. Then rais'd new Empires o'er the Earth, And Thofe, new Heavens and Systems fram'd. Vain was the Chief's, the Sage's pride! They had no Poet, and they died: Vivuntque commiffi calores Aeoliae fidibus puellae. Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona Multi; fed omnes illacrymabiles Urgentur ignotique longa |