Whilft fancy pictur'd every lively part,

And each bright image wander'd o'er his heart.
Thus, in fome public Forum fix'd on high,
A mirror fhows the figures moving by;
Still one by one, in fwift fucceffion, pafs
The gliding shadows o'er the polish'd glass.
This lady's charms the nicest could not blame,
But vile fufpicions had afpers'd her fame:

That was with fenfe, but not with virtue, bleft:
And one had grace, that wanted all the rest.
Thus doubting long what nymph he should obey,
He fix'd at laft upon the youthful May.

Her faults he knew not, Love is always blind,
But every charm revolv'd within his mind:
Her tender age, her form divinely fair,
Her eafy motion, her attractive air,

Her fweet behaviour, her enchanting face,
Her moving foftnefs, and majestic grace.

Much in his prudence did our Knight rejoice,
And thought no mortal could dispute his choice:
Once more in hafte he fummon d every friend,
And told them all, their pains were at an end.
Heaven, that (faid he) inspir'd me first to wed,
Provides a confort worthy of my bed:
Let none oppose th' election, fince on this
Depends my quiet, and my future bliss.

A dame there is, the darling of my eyes, Young, beauteous, artlefs, innocent, and wife: Chafte, tho not rich; and tho not nobly born, Of honeft parents, and may ferve my turn.

Her will I wed, if gracious heaven so please;
To pafs my age in fanctity and ease ;

And thank the powers, I may poffefs alone
The lovely prize, and share my bliss with none!
If you, my friends, this virgin can procure,
My joys are full, my happiness is fure.

One only doubt remains; Full oft I've heard,
By cafuifts grave, and deep divines averr'd:
That 'tis too much for human race to know
The blifs of heaven above, and earth below.
Now fhould the nuptial pleasures prove fo great,
To match the bleffings of the future state,

Thofe endless joys were ill exchang d for thefe;
Then clear this doubt, and fet my mind at ease.

This Justin heard, nor could his spleen controul,
Touch'd to the quick, and tickled at the foul.
Sir Knight, he cry d, if this be all your dread,
Heaven put it past your doubt, whene er you wed;
And to my fervent prayers fo far confent,

That e'er the rites are o er, you may repent!

Good heaven, no doubt, the nuptial state approves,
Since it chaftifes ftill what beft it loves.

Then be not, Sir, abandon'd to despair;
Seek, and perhaps you'll find among the fair,
One that may do your business to a hair;
Not even in wish, your happiness delay,

But prove the fcourge to lafh you on your way:
Then to the skies your mounting foul fhall go,
Swift as an arrow foaring from the bow !
Provided fill, you moderate your joy,

in your pleasures all your might employ,

}

Let reafon s rule your strong defires abate,
Nor please too lavishly your gentle mate.
Old wives there are, of Judgment most acute,
Who folve these questions beyond all difpute;
Confult with thofe, and be of better chear;
Marry, do penance, and difmifs your fear.

So faid, they rofe, nor more the work delay'd;
The match was offer'd, the propofals made.
The parents you may think would foon comply;
The Old have intereft ever in their eye.
Nor was it hard to move the Lady's mind;
When fortune favours, ftill the Fair are kind.

I pass each previous fettlement and deed, Too long for me to write, or you to read; Nor will with quaint impertinence display The pomp, the pageantry, the proud array. The time approach'd, to Church the parties went, At once with carnal and devout intent:

Forth came the Prieft, and bade th obedient wife
Like Sarah or Rebecca lead her life:

Then pray d the powers the fruitful bed to blefs,
And made all fure enough with holiness.

And now the palace-gates are open'd wide,
The guests appear in order, fide by fide,
And plac'd in ftate, the bridegroom and the bride.
The breathing flute's foft notes are heard around,
And the shrill trumpets mix their filver found;
The vaulted roofs with echoing music ring, [ftring.
Thefe touch the vocal stops, and those the trembling

Not thus Amphion tun'd the warbling lyre,

Nor Joab the founding clarion could inspire,

Nor fierce Theodamas, whofe fprightly strain
Could fwell the foul to rage, and fire the martial train.

Bacchus himself, the nuptial feast to grace,
(So poets fing) was prefent on the place:
And lovely Venus, Goddess of delight,
Shook high her flaming torch in open sight,
And danc'd around, and fmil'd on every knight;
Pleas'd her beft fervant would his courage try,
No lefs in wedlock, than in liberty.

Full many an age old Hymen had not spy'd
So kind a bridegroom, or fo bright a bride.
Ye bards! renown'd among the tuneful throng
For gentle lays, and joyous nuptial fong;
Think not your fofteft numbers can display
The matchlefs glories of this blifsful day :
The joys are fuch, as far tranfcend your rage,
When tender youth has wedded stooping age.

The beauteous dame fat fmiling at the board,
And darted amorous glances at her lord.
Not Hefter's felf, whofe charms the Hebrews fing,
E'er look'd fo lovely on her Persian King:
Bright as the rifing fun in fummer's day,
And fresh and blooming as the month of May!
The joyful knight furvey'd her by his fide,
Nor envy'd Paris with the Spartan bride:
Still as his mind revolv'd with vast delight
Th' entrancing raptures of th' approaching night,
Reftlefs he fat, invoking every power

To fpeed his blefs, and haste the happy hour.
Meantime the vigorous dancers beat the ground,
And fongs were fung, and flowing bowls went round.

With odorous spices they perfum'd the place,
And mirth and vigour thone in every face.
Damian alone of all the menial train,
Sad in the midst of triumphs, sigh'd for pain;
Damian alone, the knight's obfequious fquire,
Confum'd at heart, and fed a fecret fire,
His lovely mistress all his foul poffefs'd,
He look'd, he languish'd and could take no reft:
His task perform d he fadly went his way,
Fell on his bed, and loath'd the light of day.

There let him lie;

Weep in her turn,

The weary fun,

till his relenting dame

and wafte in equal flame.
as learned Poets write,

For fook the Horizon, and roll'd down the light;
While glittering stars his abfent beams fupply,
And night's dark mantle overfpread the sky.
Then rose the guests and as the time requir d,
Each paid his thanks, and decently retir'd.

The foe once gone, our Knight prepar'd t'undrefs,
So keen he was, and eager to poflets:

But first thought fit th' affi tance to receive,
Which grave Phyficians fcruple not to give;
Satyrion near, with hot Eringo's stood,
Cantharides, to fire the lazy blood,

Whofe ufe old bards defcribe in lufcious rhimes,
And Critics learn'd explain'd to modern times.

By this the fheets were fpread, the bride undrefs'd,
The room was sprinkled, and the bed was blefs'd.
What next enfu'd befeems not me to fay;
"Tis fung, he labour'd till the dawning day,