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'Twas fraught with pangs; for Jove ordain'd above, That gold should aid, and pangs attend on love.
Her gay descent the man perceiv'd afar, ` Wond'ring he run to catch the falling star; But fo furpriz❜d, as none but he can tell, Who lov'd fo quickly, and who lov'd fo well. O'er all his veins the wand'ring paffion burns, He calls her Nymph, and ev'ry Nymph by turns. Her form to lovely Venus he prefers,
Or fwears that Venus' must be such as hers.
She, proud to rule, yet strangely fram❜d to tease,
Then hums a carelefs tune to lay the form,
Unhappy man! to whom so bright she shone, The fatal gift, her tempting felf, unknown! The winds were filent, all the waves afleep, And heav'n was trac'd upon the flatt'ring deep; But whilft he looks unmindful of a storm, And thinks the water wears a stable form, What dreadful din around his ears shall rife! What frowns confuse his picture of the fkies!
At first the creature man was fram'd alone, Lord of himself, and all the world his own. For him the Nymphs in green forfook the woods, For him the Nymphs in blue forfook the floods, In vain the Satyrs rage, the Tritons rave, They bore him heroes in the fecret cave. No care destroy'd, no fick diforder prey'd, No bending age his sprightly form decay'd,
No wars were known, no females heard to rage, And Poets tell us, 'twas a golden age.
When woman came, thofe ills the box confin'd Burst furious out, and poison'd all the wind,
From point to point, from pole to pole they flew,
New terms of folly rofe, new ftates of care;
(Man's double suff'rings for domeftic joys)
These, and a thousand, yet unnam'd we find;
The facred groves a fix'd attention show,
What heavy judgment prov'd the writer's fate,
A Locrian youth, the gentle Troilus he,
Betray'd the fecrets of the conscious bow'r ;
It chanc'd one evening, 'twas the Lover's day, Conceal'd in brakes the jealous kindred lay; When Hefiod wand'ring, mus'd along the plain, And fix'd his feat where love had fix'd the fcene:
A strong suspicion strait possess'd their mind, (For Poets ever were a gentle kind)
But when Evanthe near the paffage stood,
Flung back a doubtful look, and shot the wood, "Now take, at once they cry, thy due reward," And urg'd with erring rage, assault the Bard: His corps the fea receiv'd. The dolphins bore ('Twas all the Gods would do) the corps to shore.
Methinks I view the dead with pitying eyes,
And fee the dreams of antient wisdom rise;
I fee the Mufes round the body cry,
But hear a Cupid loudly laughing by ;