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"Let thofe love now, who never lov'd before; "Let those who always lov'd, now love the more."

Now Bulls o'er stalks of broom extend their fides,
Secure of favours from their lowing brides.
Now ftately Rams their fleecy conforts lead,
Who bleating follow thro' the wand'ring shade.
And now the Goddess bids the birds appear,
Raife all their mufic, and falute the year:
Then deep the Swan begins, and deep the fong
Runs o'er the water where he fails along;
While Philomela tunes a treble strain,

And from the poplar charms the lift'ning plain.
We fancy love expreft at ev'ry note,
It melts, it warbles, in her liquid throat.
Of barb'rous Tereus fhe complains no more,
But fings for pleasure, as for grief before.
And still her graces rife, her airs extend,
And all is filence 'till the Syren end.

“Cras amet, qui numquam amavit; quique ama

"vit, cras amet."

Ecce, jam fuper geneftas explicant tauri latus.
Quifque tuus quo tenetur conjugali foedere.
Subter umbras cum maritis ecce balantum gregem,
Et canoras non tacere Diva juffit alites.

Jam loquaces ore rauco ftagna cygni perftrepunt,
Adfonat Terei puella fubter umbram populi,
Ut putas motus Amoris ore dici mufico,
Et neges queri fororem de marito barbaro.

How long in coming is my lovely Spring?

And when shall I, and when the Swallow fing?
Sweet Philomela cease,- -Or here I fit,

And filent lofe my rapt'rous hour of wit:
'Tis gone, the fit retires, the flames decay,
My tuneful Phoebus flies averse away.
His own Amycle thus, as stories run,

But once was filent, and that once undone.

Let thofe love now, who never lov'd before; "Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.'

وو

Illa cantat: nos tacemus: quando ver venit meum? Quando faciam ut celidon, ut tacere definam? Perdidi Mufam tacendo, nec me Phoebus refpicit. Sic Amyclas, cum tacerent, perdidit filentium. "Cras amet, qui numquam amavit; quique amavit, cras amet."

HOMER'S

BATRACHOMUOMACHIA:

OR, THE

BATTLE.

OF THE

FROGS AND MICE.

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PSYCARPAI, One who PHYSICI