H

The fourth ODE.

On himself.

ITHER lotes and myrtles bring;
Tender harvest of the spring.
Soft and cool, my limbs recline;
While I give my self to wine.
Love (his flowing mantle bound, .
With a fedge, his neck around)
Love himself shall fill the bowl:
For life, haftening to the goal,
Paffes with a rapid trill;

Swift, as whirls the chariot-wheel:

And our bones to, moulder lain,

We, a little dust, remain.

Why ointments on my stone bestow?
Vainly, why, the ground bestrow?
Ointments on me living shed;

Rofes cluster round my head;
And, oh, bring my charmer here!
Let me, e'er I disappear,

E'er, o Love, I thither go,
Where they fing and dance, below;

Let me, while I live, prepare;

Let me banish ev'ry care.

WHEN

The MISTAKE.

HEN on fair Celia I did spy

A wounded heart of stone,

The wound had almost made me cry,
Sure this heart was my own.

But when I faw it was enthron'd
In her coeleftial breast;
O then, I it no longer own'd,

For mine was ne'er fo bleft.

Yet if in highest heavens do fhine
Each conftant martyr's heart;
Then she may well give reft to mine,
That for her fake doth fmart.

Where, feated in fo high a bliss,.
Though wounded, it fhall live;

Death enters not in paradise,

The place free life doth give.

Or if the place lefs facred were,
Did but her faving eye

Bathe my fick heart in one kind tear,
Then fhou'd I never die.

Slight balms may heal a flighter fore,
No med'cine lefs divine

Can ever hope for to restore

A wounded heart like mine.

ON

Ο

N filver Tyber's vocal fhore,

The fam'd Scarloti ftruck his lyre,
And ftrove, with charms unknown before,
The springs of tuneful found t' explore,
Beyond what art alone could e'er infpire.
When fee the sweet effay to hear,
Venus with her fon drew near;
And pleas'd to ask the master's aid,
The mother goddess, smiling, faid,

Harmonious fon of Phoebus, fee!
'Tis Love, 'tis little Love I bring;
The queen of beauty fues to thee,
To teach her wanton boy to fing.

The pleas'd musician heard with joy,
And, proud to teach th' immortal boy,
Did all his fongs, and heavenly skill impart :
The boy, to recompenfe his art,

Repeating, did each song improve,

And breath'd into his airs the charms of love;

And taught the mafter thus to touch the heart.
Love infpiring

Sounds perfuading,

Makes his darts refiftless fly:

Beauty aiding,

Arts infpiring,

Gives them wings to rife more high.

IN

IN

N vain have I labour'd the victor to prove
Of a heart that can ne'er give attendance to love ;
So hard to be done,

That nothing fo young

Cou'd e'er have refifted a paffion fo long.

Yet nothing I left unattempted or faid,

That might soften the heart of this pitiless maid;
But ftill fhe was fhy,

And wou'd, blushing, deny,

Whilft her willinger eyes gave her language the lye.

Since, Phillis, my paffion you vow to despise, Withdraw the falfe hopes from your flattering eyes: For whilft they inspire

A refiftlefs vain fire,

We fhall grow to abhor, what we now do admire.

FATH

ift. voice.

AIR Charina! wondrous fair!

F What can with thy eyes compare?

2d. voice. Fair Charina! wondrous fair! What can with thy lips compare? Every fofter love is there.

Both.

1.

2.

Beauty's queen, thy eyes infpiring,

Ever makes them charm the fight.

Beauty's queen, thy lips admiring,

Ever views them with delight.

'Twas near a fragrant myrtle grove,

By which the lift'ning Thames flow'd flow along, Two young contending gods of love

Difputed thus in song;

Till much provok'd, and red'ning with disdain,

Each strove by turns in rival strain

The palm of beauty thus to gain:

I.

Hide thy beams, thou god of light,
Or take to other lands thy flight:
See two brighter funs arising;
See Charina's eyes surprising ;
While they fhine 'tis never night.

Return, o god of light, by thee,

A thousand colours paint the clouds and groves,
Yet none fo fair in heaven or earth we see,
As on Charina's lips the purple loves.

VOL. III.