University of Virginia Library

IDYLLIUM VII. THE EPITHALAMIUM OF ACHILLES AND DEIDAMIA.

MYRSON and LYCIDAS.
MYRSON.
Say, wilt thou, Lycidas, sweet Shepherd-swain,
Begin some soothing, soft Sicilian Strain,
Such as the Cyclops, on a Rock reclin'd,
Sung to the Sea-nymph, to compose his Mind,
And sent it in the Whispers of the Wind?

LYCIDAS.
What can I sing that Myrson will commend?
With Pleasure I would gratify my Friend.

MYRSON.
Repeat the Song which most my Taste approves,
Achilles' stol'n Embrace, and hidden Loves;
How the bold Hero laid his Arms aside,
A Woman's Robe the manly Sex belied,
And Deidamia soon became his Bride.

LYCIDAS.
When with fair Helen Paris cross'd the Deep,
Brought her to Troy, and made Oenone weep;
The injur'd States of Greece were all alarm'd,
Spartans, Mycenians, and Laconians arm'd;
The Treachery stung their Souls, and bloody Vengeance warm'd:
In close Disguise his Life Achilles led,
Among the Daughters of King Lycomed:
Instead of Arms the Hero learn'd to cull
The snowy Fleece, and weave the twisted Wool.
Like theirs, his Cheeks a rosy Bloom display'd,
Like them he seem'd a fair and lovely Maid;
As soft his Air, as delicate his Tread,
Like them he cover'd with a Veil his Head:
But in his Veins the Tides of Courage flow'd,
And Love's soft Passion in his Bosom glow'd;
By Deidamia's Side from Morn to Night
He sat, and with ineffable Delight
Oft kiss'd her snow-white Hand, or gently press'd
The blooming Virgin to his glowing Breast.
His Soul was all enraptur'd with her Charms,
Ardent he long'd to clasp her in his Arms;
Oft in her Ear these Words enamour'd said,
“By Pairs your Sisters press the downy Bed;
“But we, two Maids of equal Age and Bloom,
“Still Sleep divided in a separate Room.
“Why should the Night, more cruel than the Day,
“Steal the sweet Virgin, whom I love away? [OMITTED]