More than her fifters long'd her heart to yield,
Yet fwifter fled the o'er the smiling field.
The youth now panting with the hopeless chase,
Oh turn, he cries, Oh turn thy angel face :
False to themselves can charms like these conceal
The hateful rigour of relentless steel;
And did the stream deceive me when I ftood
Amid my peers reflected in the flood?
The eafieft port and fairest bloom I bore-
False was the stream-while I in vain deplore,
My peers are happy; lo, in every shade,
In every bower, their love with love repaid!
I, I alone through brakes, through thorns pursue
A cruel fair-Ah, ftill my fate proves true,
True to its rigour-who, fair nymph, to thee
Reveal'd, 'twas I that fued! unhappy me!
Born to be spurn'd though honesty inspire-
Alas, I faint, my languid finews tire;
Oh stay thee-powerless to sustain their weight
My knees fink down, I fink beneath my fate!
He spoke; a rustling urges through the trees,
Inftant new vigour strings his active knees,
Wildly he glares around, and raging cries,
And must another fnatch my lovely prize?
In favage grafp thy beauteous limbs constrain!
I feel, I madden while I feel the pain!
Oh loft, thou flieft the fafety of my arms,
My hand shall guard thee, foftly feize thy charms,
No brutal rage inflames me, yet I burn!
Die shall thy ravisher—Oh goddess, turn,
And smiling view the error of my fear;
No brutal force, no ravisher is near;
A harmless roebuck gave the rustling founds;
Lo, from the thicket fwift as thee he bounds!
Ah, vain the hope to tire thee in the chace!
I faint, yet hear, yet turn thy lovely face.
Vain are thy fears; were even thy will to yield
The harvest of my hope, that harvest field
My fate would guard, and walls of brafs would rear
Between my fickle and the golden ear.
Yet fly me not; fo may thy youthful prime
Ne'er fly thy cheek on the grey wing of time.
Yet hear, the last my panting breath can fay,
Nor proudest kings, nor mightiest hosts can fway
Fate's dread decrees; yet thou, O nymph divine,
Yet thou canst more, yet thou canst conquer mine.
Unmoved each other yielding nymph I see;
Joy to their lovers, for they touch not thee!
But thee Oh, every transport of defire,
That melts to mingle with its kindred fire,
For thee refpires--alone I feel for thee
The dear wild rage of longing ecstasy :
By all the flames of fympathy divine
To thee united, thou by right art mine.
From thee, from thee the hallowed transport flows
That fevered rages, and for union glows;
Heaven owns the claim-Hah, did the lighting glare :
Yes, I beheld my rival, though the air
Grew dim; even now I heard him foftly tread;
Oh rage, he waits thee on the flowery bed!
I fee, I fee thee rushing to his arms,
And finking on his bofom, all thy charms
To him refigning in an eager kifs,
All I implored, the whelming tide of bliss!
And fhall I fee him riot on thy charms,
Diffolved in joy exulting in thine arms.
Oh burst, ye lightnings, round my deftin'd head,
Oh pour your flashes--Madning as he said,
Amid the windings of the bowery wood
His trembling footsteps still the nymph 1 pursued.
1 His trembling footsteps fill the nymph pursued.- At the end of his Homer Mr. Pope has given an index of the instances of imitative and sentimental harmony contained in his translations. He has also often in his notes pointed out the adaption of found to fenfe. The translator of the Lufiad hopes he may for once fay, that he has not been inattentive to this great effential of good verfi. fication; how he has fucceeded the judicious only must determine. The fpeech of Leonard to the curfory reader may perhaps fometimes appear carelefs, and fometimes turgid and stiff. That speech, however, is an attempt at the imitative and fentimental harmony, and with the judicious he rests its fate. As the translation in this instance exceeds the original in length, the objection of a foreign critic requires attention. An old purfy abbé, (and critics are apt to judge by themselves) may indeed be surprised that a man out of breath with running should be able to talk fo long. But had he confulted the experience of others, he would have found it was no wonderful matter for a ftout and young cavalier to talk twice as much, though fatigued with the chace of a couple of miles, provided the fuppofition is allowed, that he treads on the last steps of his flying mistress.
Wooed to the flight she wing'd her speed to hear
His amorous accents melting on her ear.
And now she turns the wild walk's ferpent maze;
A roseate bower its velvet couch displays;
The thickest moss its fofteft verdure spread,
Crocus and mingling panfie fring'd the bed,
The woodbine dropt its honey from above,
And various rofes crown'd the sweet alcove.
Here as the haftens, on the hopeless boy
She turns her face all bathed in smiles of joy;
Then, finking down, her eyes, fufficed with love
Glowing on his, one moment loft reprove.
Here was no rival, all he wish'd his own;
Lock'd in her arms foft finks the ftripling down.
Ah, what foft murmurs panting through the bowers
Sigh'd to the raptures of the paramours;
The wifhful figh and melting smile conspire,
Devouring kiffes fan the fiercer fire;
Sweet violence with deareft grace affails,
Soft o'er the purpofed frown the fmile prevails;
The purposed frown betrays its own deceit,
In well-pleas'd laughter ends the rising threat;
The coy delay glides off in yielding love,
And tranfport murmurs through the facred grove.
The joy of pleafing adds its facred zest,
And all is love, embracing and embraced.
The golden morn beheld the scenes of joy;
Nor, fultry noon, mayst though the bowers annoy;
The fultry noon-beam fhines the lover's aid,
And fends him glowing to the fecret fhade.
O'er every shade and every nuptial bower
The love-fick ftrain the virgin turtles pour;
For nuptial faith and holy rites combin'd,
The Lufian heroes and the nymphs conjoin'd.
With flowery wreaths, and laurel chaplets, bound
With ductile gold, the nymphs the heroes crown'd:
By every spousal holy ritual tied,
No chance they vow shall e'er their hands divide,
In life, in death, attendant as their fame;
Such was the oath of ocean's fovereign dame :
The dame (from heaven and holy Vesta sprung,
For ever beauteous and for ever young,)
Enraptured views the chief whofe deathlefs name
The wondering world and conquer'd feas proclaim.
With stately pomp fhe holds the hero's hand,
And gives her empire to his dread command,
By fpoufal ties confirm'd; nor past untold
What fate's unalter'd page had will'd of old:
The world's vaft globe in radiant sphere fhe fhew'd,
The shores immense, and seas unknown, unplow'd;
The feas, the fhores, due to the Lufian keel
And Lufian fword, the haftens to reveal.
The glorious leader by the hand she takes,
And, dim, below, the flowery bowers forfakes.
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