Nor pale disease, nor health-confuming care,

Nor wrath, nor foul revenge can enter there;

;

No vapour's foggy gloom imbrowns the sky;
No tempefts rage, no angry lightnings fly;
But dews, and foft-refreshing airs are found,
And pure ætherial azure shines around.
Whate'er the fweet Sabæan foil can boast,
Or Mecca's plains, or India's spicy coaft
What Hybla's hills, or rich Œbalia's fields,
Or flow'ry vale of fam'd Hymettus yields;
Or what of old th' Hefperian orchard grac'd;
All that was e'er delicious to the tafte,
Sweet to the smell, or lovely to the view,
Collected there with added beauty grew.
High-tow'ring to the heav'ns the trees are seen,
Their bulk immense, their leaf for ever green;
So closely interwove, the tell-tale fun
Can ne'er defcry the deeds beneath them done,
But where by fits the fportive gales divide
Their tender tops, and fan the leaves afide.
Like a smooth carpet at their feet lies spread
The matted grafs, by bubbling fountains fed;
And on each bough the feather'd choir employ
Their melting notes, and nought is heard but joy.
The painted flow'rs exhale a rich perfume,

The fruits are mingled with eternal bloom,

And Spring and Autumn hand in hand appear,

Lead on the merry months, and join to cloath the year.

Here, o'er the mountain's fhaggy fummit pour'd,
From rock to rock the tumbling torrent roar'd,
While beauteous Iris in the vale below

Paints on the rifing fumes her radiant bow.
Now through the meads the mazy current ftray'd,
Now hid its wand'rings in the myrtle fhade;
Or in a thousand veins divides its ftore,

Vifits each plant, refreshes ev'ry flow'r;

O'er gems and golden fands in murmurs flows,
And fweetly foothes the foul, and lulls to foft repose.
If hunger call, no fooner can the mind
Express her will to needful food inclin'd,
But in fome cool recefs, or op'ning glade,
The feats are plac'd, the tables neatly laid,
And inftantly convey'd by magic hand
In comely rows the coftly dishes stand;
Meats of all kinds that nature can impart,
Prepar'd in all the niceft forms of art.

A troop of fprightly nymphs array'd in green,
With flow'ry chaplets crown'd, come fcudding in;
With fragrant bloffoms thefe adorn the feast,
Those with officious zeal attend the guest;
Beneath his feet the filken carpet spread,
Or fprinkle liquid odours o'er his head.
Others in ruby cups with roses bound
Delightful! deal the sparkling nectar round;
Or weave the dance, or tune the vocal lay;
The lyres refound, the merry minstrels play,

Gay

Gay health, and youthful joys o'erspread the place,
And fwell each heart, and triumph in each face.
So when embolden'd by the vernal air,

The bufy bees to blooming fields repair ;
For various ufe employ their chymic pow'r;
One culls the frowy pounce, one fucks the flow'r ;
Again to diff'rent works returning home,
Some* fteeve the honey, some erect the comb;
All for the general good in concert strive,
And ev'ry foul's in motion, ev'ry limb's alive.
And now defcending from his flight, the God
On the green turf releas'd his precious load;
There, after mutual falutations past,

And endless friendship vow'd, they part in hafte;
Zephyr impatient to behold his love,

The prince in raptures wand'ring thro' the grove;
Now skipping on, and finging as he went,
Now stopping fhort to give his transports vent;
With fudden gufts of happiness opprefs'd,
Or ftands entranc'd, or raves like one poffefs'd;
His mind afloat, his wand'ring fenfes quite
O'ercome with charms, and frantic with delight;
From scene to fcene by random fteps conveyed,
Admires the diftant views, explores the fecret fhade,
Dwells on each fpot, with eager eye devours

The woods, the lawns, the buildings, and the bow'rs;
New fweets, new joys at every glance arise,

And ev'ry turn creates a fresh furprize.

Or five, fipant.

N 3

Clofe

Clofe by the borders of a rifing wood,
In a green vale a cryftal grotto ftood;
And o'er its fide, beneath a beechen fhade,
In broken falls a filver fountain play'd.
Hither, attracted by the murm'ring ftream,
And cool recefs, the pleas'd Porfenna came,
And on the tender grafs reclining chofe

To wave his joys awhile, and take a fhort repose.
The scene invites him, and the wanton breeze
That whispers thro' the vale, the dancing trees,
The warbling birds, and rills that gently creep,
All join their mufic to prolong his fleep.

The princefs for her morning walk prepar'd;
The female troops attend, a beauteous guard.
Array'd in all her charms appear'd the fair;
Tall was her ftature, unconfin'd her air;
Proportion deck'd her limbs, and in her face
Lay love infhrin'd, lay fweet attractive grace
Temp'ring the aweful beams her eyes convey'd,
And like a lambent flame around her play'd.
No foreign aids, by mortal ladies worn,
From fhells and rocks her artlefs charms adorn;
For grant that beauty were by gems increas'd,
'Tis render'd more fufpected at the leaft;
And foul defects, that wou'd escape the fight,
Start from the piece, and take a ftronger light,
Her chefnut hair in careless rings around

Her temples war'd, with pinks and jes'mine crown'd,

And,

And, gather'd in a filken cord behind,
Curl'd to the waift, and floated in the wind;
O'er these a veil of yellow gaufe she wore,
With amaranths and gold embroider'd o'er.
Her fnowy neck half naked to the view

Gracefully fell; a robe of purple hue
Hung loosely o'er her flender shape, and tried
To shade those beauties, that it cou'd not hide.

The damfels of her train with mirth and song
Frolick behind, and laugh and sport along.
The birds proclaim their queen from ev'ry tree;
The beasts run frisking thro' the groves to fee;
The Loves, the Pleasures, and the Graces meet
In antic rounds, and dance before her feet.
By whate'er fancy led, it chanc'd that day
They thro' the fecret valley took their way,
And to the crystal grot advancing spied
The prince extended by the fountain's fide.

He look'd as, by some skilful hand exprefs'd,
Apollo's youthful form retir'd to reft;
When with the chace fatigued he quits the wood
For Pindus' vale, and Aganippe's flood;
There fleeps fecure, his careless limbs display'd
At eafe, encircled by the laurel shade;
Beneath his head his theaf of arrows lie,
His bow unbent hangs negligently by.

The flumb'ring prince might boaft an equal grace,
So turn'd his limbs, fo beautiful his face.