• Haft thou not seen fome lover pale,
When evening brought the pensive hour, Step flowly o'er the fhadowy vale,
And ftop to pluck the frequent flower?
Has not for thee the fragrant thorn Been taught her first rose to refign? • With vain but pious fondness borne
To deck thy Nancy's honour'd shrine!
'Tis Nature pleading in the breast,
Fair memory of her works to find; And when to Fate fhe yields the reft, She claims the monumental mind.
Why, elfe, the o'ergrown paths of time
Would thus the letter'd fage explore,
• With pain these crumbling ruins climb,
And on the doubtful sculpture pore?
'Tis Nature prompts, by toil or fear Unmov'd, to range thro' death's domain:
The tender parent loves to hear
Her children's story told again.
• Treat not with fcorn his thoughtful hours,
If haply near these haunts he ftray:
Nor take the fair enlivening flowers
That bloom to chear his lonely way!'
N that sweet ifle, where Venus keeps her court,
And ev'ry grace and all the loves refort;
Where either sex is form'd of fofter earth,
And takes the bent of pleasure from their birth,
There liv'd a Cyprian lord, above the rest,
Wife, wealthy, with a num'rous iffue blefs'd.
But as no gift of Fortune is fincere,
Was only wanting in a worthy heir:
His eldest born, a goodly youth to view,
Excell'd the reft in fhape, and outward fhew;
Fair, tall, his limbs with due proportion join'd,
But of a heavy, dull, degen'rate mind.
His foul bely'd the features of his face ;
Beauty was there, but beauty in disgrace.
A clownish mien, a voice with ruftick found,
And ftupid eyes that ever lov'd the ground.
He look'd like Nature's error, as the mind
And body were not of a piece defign'd,
But made for two, and by mistake in one were join❜d.
The ruling rod, the father's forming care,
Were exercis'd in vain, on wit's defpair;
The more inform'd, the less he understood,
And deeper funk by flound'ring in the mud.
Now fcorn'd of all, and grown the publick fhame,
The people fron Galefus chang'd his name,
And Cymon call'd, which fignifies a brute;
So well his name did with his nature fuit.
His father, when he found his labour loft,
And care employ'd, that answer'd not the coft,
Chofe an ungrateful object to remove,
And loath'd to see what Nature bade him love:
So to his country farm the fool confin'd;
Rude work, well fuited with a ruftick mind.
Thus to the wilds the sturdy Cymon went,
A fquire among the fwains, and pleas'd with banishment.
His corn and cattle were his only care,
And his fupreme delight, a country fair.
It happen'd on a fummer's holiday,
That to the green-wood shade he took his way;
For Cymon fhunn'd the church, and us'd not much to pray.
His quarter-ftaff, which he could ne'er forfake,
Hung half before, and half behind his back:
He trudg'd along, unknowing what he fought,
And whistled as he went, for want of thought.
By chance conducted, or by thirst constrain'd,
The deep reçeffes of the grove he gain'd;
Where, in a plain, defended by the wood,
Crept thro' the matted grass a chrystal flood,
By which an alabaster fountain stood;
And on the margin of the fount was laid
(Attended by her flaves) a fleeping maid,
Like Dian and her nymphs, when tir'd with sport,
To reft by cool Eurotas they refort:
The dame herself the goddess well express'd,
Not more diftinguish'd by her purple vest,
Than by the features of her charming face,
And e'en in flumber a fuperior grace.
Her lovely limbs compos'd with decent care,
Her body shaded with a flight cymar;
Her bofom to the view was only bare,
Where two beginning paps were scarcely spy'd,
For yet their places were but fignify'd:
The fanning wind upon her bofom blows,
To meet the fanning wind the bosom rose;
The fanning wind and purling ftreams continue her repose.
The fool of nature ftood with ftupid eyes,
And gaping mouth, that teftify'd furprize,
Fix'd on her face, nor could remove his fight,
New as he was to love, and novice in delight.
Long mute he stood, and leaning on his flaff,
His wonder witness'd with an ideot laugh;
Then would have fpoke, but by his glimm'ring sense,
First found his want of words, and fear'd offence.
Doubted for what he was he fhould be known,
By his clown accent, and his country tone.
Through the rude chaos thus the running light,
Shot the first ray that pierc'd the native night,
When day and darkness in the mass were mix'd,
Till gather'd in a globe the beams were fix'd.
Laft fhone the fun, who radiant in his sphere,
Illumin'd heav'n and earth, and roll'd around the year.
So reason in this brutal foul began:
Love made him firft fufpect he was a man ;
Love made him doubt his broad barbarian found;
By Love his want of words and wit he found;
That fenfe of want prepar'd the future way
To knowledge, and disclos'd the promise of a day.
What not his father's care, nor tutor's art,
Cou'd plant with pains in his unpolished heart,
The best inftructor, Love, at once infpir'd;
As barren grounds to fruitfulness are fir'd:
Love taught him fhame; and fhame, with love at ftrife,
Soon taught the sweet civilities of life.
His grofs material foul at once could find
Somewhat in her excelling all her kind;
Exciting a defire till then unknown,
Somewhat unfound, or found in her alone.
This made the firft impreffion in his mind,
Above, (but juft above) the brutal kind.
For beafts can like, but not diftinguish too,
Nor their own liking by reflection know;
Nor why they like or this, or t'other face,
Or judge of this or that peculiar grace:
But love in grofs, and ftupidly admire ;'
As flies, allur'd by light, approach the fire.
Thus our man-beaft advancing by degrees,
First likes the whole, then feparates what he fees;
On fev'ral parts, a fev'ral praise bestows,
The ruby lips, the well-proportion'd nose,
The fnowy fkin, and raven-gloffy hair,
The dimpled cheek, the forehead rifing fair,
And e'en in fleep itself a fimiling air.
From thence, his eyes defcending view'd the reft,
Her plump round arms, white hands, and heaving breast.'
Long on the last he dwelt, though ev'ry part
A pointed arrow fped to pierce his heart.
Thus in a trice a judge of beauty grown,
(A judge erected from a country clown)
He long'd to fee her eyes, in flamber hid,
And wish'd his own could pierce within the lid :
He would have wak'd her, but reftrain'd his thought;
And love, new-born, the first good-manners taught.
An awful fear his ardent with withstood;
Nor durft difturb the goddess of the wood:
For fuch fhe feem'd by her celestial face,
Excelling all the rest of human race;
And things divine, by common fenfe he knew,
Must be devoutly feen at diftant view.
So checking his defire with trembling heart,
Gazing he ftood; nor would, nor could depart:
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