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Let heroes in the dusty field delight,
Those limbs were fashion’d for another fight.
Bid Hector fally from the walls of Troy; 246
A sweeter quarrel should your arms employ.
Yet fears like these should not

my
mind

perplex, Were I as wise as many

of
my

fex.
But time and you may bolder thoughts inspire;
And I perhaps may yield to your desire.
You last demand a private conference;
These are your words, but I can guess your sense.
Your unripe hopes their harvest must attend :
Be ruld by me, and time

may
be
your

friend. This is enough to let you understand ; For now my pen has tir’d my tender hand : My woman knows the secret of my heart, And may

hereafter better news impart.

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DIDO TO ÆNEAS.

EPIST. VII.

THE ARGUMENT.

Æneas, the son of Venus and Anchises, having, at

the destruction of Troy, saved his gods, his father, and son Ascanius, from the fire, put to sea with twenty fail of ships ; and, having been long tost with tempests, was at last cast upon the shore of Libya, where queen Dido (flying from the cruelty of Pygmalion her brother, who had killed her husband Sichaus) had lately built Carthage. She entertained Eneas and his fleet with great civi, lity, fell passionately in love with him, and in the end denied him not the last favours. But. Mercury admonishing Æneas to go in search of Italy, (a kingdom promised him by the gods) he readily prepared to follow him. Dido foon perceived it, and having in vain tried all other means to engage him to stay, at last in despair writes to him as follows.

So, on Mæander's banks, when death is nigh,
The mournful swan fings her own elegy.
Not that I hope (for, oh, that hope were vain !)
By words

loft affection to regain :

your

But, having lost whate'er was worth my care, :
Why should I fear to lose a dying pray’r ?
"Tis then refolv'd poor Dido must be left,
Of life, of honor, and of love bereft !
While you, with loosen'd fails, and vows, pre-

pare
To seek a land that flies the searcher's care. 10
Nor can my rising tow’rs your flight restrain,
Nor my new empire, offer'd

you

in vain. Built walls you fhun, unbuilt you seek ; that

land
Is yet to conquer;

but
you

this command. Suppose you

landed where your wish design’d, Think what reception foreigners would find, 16 What people is so void of common sense, To vote fuccession from a native prince ? Yet there new scepters and new loves you New vows to plight, and plighted vows to break. When will your tow’rs the height of Carthage

know? Or when your eyes discern such crowds below? If such a town and subjects you could see, Still would you want a wife who lov'd like

seek;

21

me.

26

For, oh, I burn, like fires with incense bright: Not holy tapers flame with purer light: Æneas is my thoughts' perpetual theme ; Their daily longing, and their nightly dream,

30

Yet lie's ungrateful and obdurate ftill:
Fool that I am to place my heart so ill !
Myself I cannot to myself restore ;
Still I complain, and still I love him more.
Have pity, Cupid, on my bleeding heart,
And pierce thy brother's with an equal dart.
I rave: nor canst thou Venus' offspring be, 35
Love's mother could not bear a son like thee.
From harden'd oak, or from a rock's cold womb,
At least thou art from some fierce tigress come;
Or on rough seas, from their foundation torn,
Got by the winds, and in a tempest born:
Like that, which now thy trembling failors fear;
Like that, whose rage should still detain thee

here.
Behold how high the foamy billows ride!
The winds and waves are on the juster side.
To winter weather and a stormy sea
I'll owe, what rather I would owe to thee.
Death thou deserv'st from heav'n's avenging

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laws;

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But I'm unwilling to become the cause.
To shun my love, if thou wilt seek thy fate,
'Tis a dear purchase, and a costly hate.
Stay but a little, 'till the tempest cease,
And the loud winds are lull'd into a peace.
May all thy rage, like theirs, unconstant prove !
And so it will, if there be pow'r in love.

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