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Thus to the Wilds the sturdy Cymon went,
It happen'd on a Summer's Holiday,
to Pray. His Quarter-Staff, which he cou'd ne'er forsake, Hung half before, and half behind his Back. He trudg’d along unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of Thought,
By Chance conducted, or by Thirst constrain’d, The deep Recesses of the Grove he gain'd; Where in a Plain, defended by the Wood,
a Crept through the matted Grassa Chrystal Flood, By which an Alablaster Fountain stood: And on the Margin of the Fount was laid (Attended by her Slaves) a sleeping Maid. Like Dian, and her Nymphs,when tir’d withSport, To rest by cool Eurotas they resort:
The Dame herself the Goddess well express’d, 7. Not more distinguish'd by her Purple Vest,
Than by the charming Features of her face,
The fanning Wind, and purling Streams, con-
tinue her Repose.
Doubted for what he was he should be known, By his Clown-Accent, and his Country-Tone.
Through the rude Chaos thus the running Ligh Shot the first Ray that pierc'd the Native Night: Then Day and Darkness in the Mass were mix’d, Till gather'd in a Globe, the Beams were fix'd: Last shone the Sun, who radiant in his Sphere Illumin’d Heav'n, and Earth, and rowI'd around So Reason in this Brutal Soul began: (the Year. Love made him first suspect he was a Man; Love made him doubt his broad Barbarian Sound, By Love his want of Words, and Wit, he found: That sense 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 unpolish'd Heart, The best Instructor, Love, at once inspir’d, As barren Grounds to Fruitfulness are fir’d: Love taught him Shame, and Shame with Love Soon taught the sweet Civilities of Life Cat Strife His grofs material Soul at once could find Somewhat in her excelling all her Kind:
Exciting a Desire till then unknown, e knor
Somewhat unfound, or found in her alone.,
This made the first Impression in his Mind, unning!
Above, but just above, the Brutal Kind.
Nor why they like or this, or c’other Face, is Sphe Or judge of this or that peculiar Grace,
, wld 21
But love in gross, and stupidly admire;
As Flies allur'd hy. Light, approach the Fire. Man: Thus our Man-Beast advancing by degrees, arian Sor First likes the whole, than sep’rates what he sees;
On sev'ral Parts, a fev'ral Praise beitows,
The snowy Skin; the Raven-glossy Hair,
And ev’n in Sleep it self a smiling Air.
1, he for
efirildi with Lo
Thus in a trice a Judge of Beauty grown,
as a Pilgrim wilder'd in his Way,
At length awaking, Iphigene the Fair