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Our flames are mutual, and my husband's gone :
The nights are long; I fear to lie alone ;
One house contains us, and weak walls divide,
And you're too pressing to be long deny'd.
Let me not live, but ev'ry thing conspires
To join our loves, and yet my fear retires.
You court with words, when you shou'd force employ,
A rape is requisite to shame-fac'd joy:
Indulgent to the wrongs which we receive,
Our sex can suffer what we dare not give.
What have I said ! for both of us 'twere belt,
Our kindling fire if each of us supprest.
The faith of strangers is too prone to change,
And, like themselves, their wand'ring passions range.
HYPSIPYLE, and the fond Minoian maid,
Were both by trusting of their guest betray’d.
How can I doubt that other men deceive,
When you yourself did fair OENONE leave?
But left I shou'd upbraid your treachery,
You make a merit of that crime to me,
Yet grant you were to faithful love inclin'd,
Your weary Trojans wait but for a wind.
Should you prevail, while I assign the night,
Your fails are hoisted, and you take your flight;
Some bawling mariner our love destroys,
And breaks asunder our unfinish'd joys.
But I with you may leave the Spartan port,
To view the Trojan wealth, and Priam’s court.
Shown while I see, I shall expose my fame;
And fill a foreign country

with
my

shame.
In Asia what reception shall I find ?
And what difhonour leave in Greece behind?

What will your brothers, PRIAM, HECUBA,
And what will all your modest matrons say?
Ev'n
you,

when on this action you reflect,
My future conduct justly may suspect :
And whate'er stranger lands upon your coast,
Conclude me, by your own example, loft.
I, from your rage, a strumpet's name shall bear,
While you forget what part in it you bear. .
You, my crime's author, will my crime upbraid:
Deep under ground, oh ! let me first be laid !
You boast the pomp and plenty of your land,
And promise all shall be at my command:
Your Trojan wealth, believe me, I despise;
My own poor native land has dearer ties.
Should I be injur'd on your Phrygian shore,
What help of kindred cou'd I there implore?
MEDEA was by Jason's flatt'ry won:
I may,

like her, believe and be undone.
Plain honest hearts, like mine, suspect no cheat,
And love contributes to its own deceit.
The ships, about whose fides loud tempeits roar,
With gentle winds were wafted from the shore,
Your teeming mother dreamt a flaming brand,
Sprung from her womb, consum'd the Trojan land;
To second this, old prophecies conspire,
That Ilium shall be burnt with Grecian fire :
Both give me fear, nor is it much allay'd,
That Venus is oblig'd our loves to aid.
For they who lost their cause, revenge will take,
And for one friend two enemies you make.
Nor can I doubt, but should I follow you,
The sword would soon our fatal crime pursue:

A wrong so great my husband's rage would rouze,
And my relations would his cause espouse.
You boast your strength and courage; but, alas !
Your words receive small credit from

your

face. Let heroes in the dusty field delight, Those limbs were fashion’d for another fight. Bid Hector fally from the walls of Troy; A sweeter quarrel should your arms employ. Yet fears like these shou'd not my mind perplex, Were I as wise as

many of my sex : But time and you may bolder thoughts inspire ; And I, perhaps, may yield to your desire. You laft 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.

PART of the STORY OF ORPHEUS.

Beingá Translation out of the Fourth Book of

VIRGIL'S GEORGIC.

'T

IS not for nothing when just heav'n does frown;

The injur'd ORPHEUS calls these judgments
Whofe fpoufe, avoiding to become thy prey, [down;
And all his joys at once were snatch'd away;
The nymph, fore-doom'd that fatal way to pass,
Spy'd not the serpent lurking in the grass :
A mournful cry the spacious valley fills,
With echoing groans from all the neighb'ring hills;
The Dryades roar out in deep despair,
And with united voice bewail the fair.

For such a loss he sought no vain relief,
But with his lute indulg'd the tender grief;
Along the shore he oft would wildly stray,
With doleful notes begin, and end the day.
At length to hell a frightful journey made,
Pass'd the wide-gaping gulph, and dismal shade:
Visits the ghosts, and to that king repairs,
Whose heart's inflexible to human prayers.

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All hell is ravish'd with so sweet a song;
Light souls and airy spirits glide along
In troops, like millions of the feather'd kind,
Driy’n home by night, or some tempestuous wind:
Matrons and men, raw youths and unripe maids ;
And mighty heroes' more majestick shades;
And fons entomb'd before their parents face;
These the black waves of bounding Styx embrace
Nine times circumfluent; clogg'd with noisome weeds,
And all that filth which standing water breeds.
Amazement reach'd ev'n the deep caves of death;
The filters with blue snaky curls took breath;
Ixion's wheel awhile unmov'd remain'd,
And the fierce dog his three-mouth'd voice restrain'd.

When safe return'd, and all these dangers past,
His wife, restor'd to breathe fresh air at last,
Following (for so PRO SERPINA was pleas'd)
A sudden rage th' unwary lover seiz'd,
He, as the first bright glimpse of day-light thin'd,
Could not refrain to calt one look behind;
A fault of love ! could hell compassion find.
A dreadful found thrice fhook the Stygian coast,
His hopes quite fled, and all his labour lost !
Why haft thou thus undone thyself and me?
What rage is this? Oh, I am snatch'd from thee!
(she faintly cry'd) Night and the pow'rs of hell
Surround my fight; Oh, ORPHEUS! oh, farewel !
My hands stretch forth to reach thee as before;
But all in vain, for I am thine no more;
No more allow'd to view thy face, or day!
Then from his eyes, like smoke, she fleets away.

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