II. But fee the bride---fhe comes with filent pace, Full of majefty and love; Not with a nobler grace Look'd the imperial wife of Jove, In Venus' irresistible, inchanting zone. Phœbus, great god of verse, the nymph observe, Then touch each sweetly-trem'lous nerve Her charms thy genius' force fhall fly, To come within INVENTION's narrow eye; But all indignant fhun its grasp, and scorn to be defcrib'd III. Now fee the bridegroom rife, Oh! how impatient are his joys! Bring me zephyrs to depaint his voice, But light'ning for his eyes. He He leaps, he springs, he flies into her arms, With joy intense, Feeds ev'ry sense, And fultanates o'er all her charms. Such may it last to all eternity And may thy Lord with thee, Like two coeval pines in Ida's grove, To To E THELINDA, On her doing my Verses the honour of wearing them in her bosom. Written at Thirteen. O DE XII. I. Appy verses! that were prest HA In fair Ethelinda's breaft! Happy muse, that didst embrace The sweet, the heav'nly-fragrant place! Shall the bard arrive there too? II. Oft thro' my eyes my foul has flown, Shall the body follow too? III. When first at nature's early birth, IV. IV. No, no, fair nymph---for no fuch end For verse, or things inanimate; Then throw them from that downy bed, On an EAGLE confined in a College-Court. Where Hyperborean mountains hoar Their heads in Ether fhroud ;-- Who, free and fwift as thought, could'ft rove II. Oh cruel fate! what barbarous hand, What more than Gothic ire, At some fierce tyrant's dread command, To check thy daring fire, Has Has plac'd thee in this fervile cell, But lurks and fneaks at home! III. Tho' dim'd thine eye, and clipt thy wing, fo So grov'ling! once so great! What time by thee fcholaftic Pride But stinks, and stagnates there. Yet useful ftill, hold to the throng--- Thou type of wit and fenfe confin'd, Who ftudy downward on the ground; ΑΝ |