Amasia, or, The Works of the Muses :: :: University of Virginia Library

Humble and soft must the Swain's Passion prove,
Greatness can never well agree with Love.
Chang'd to a Bull on the Sydonian shore,
The Thund'rer now does in new Thunder roar.
The flesh in swelling rolls his Neck adorns,
All Snowy White, he stood with peaceful Horns.
Made smooth as Gemms, tho' small, they glitter'd bright,
He seem'd for Beauty form'd, and not for fight.
His Eyes no Wrath, his Brows no Terrour wear,
His milder Aspect does no threat'nings bear;
Europa views him strait, nor knows to fear.
With inward Joy, he sees the Royal Maid,
By whom, he soon with choicest flow'rs is fed.
In her fair Hands the grateful Food she bore,
Which oft he kist—ah! scarce deferring more.
And now he rowls along the Golden Sands,
The Virgin sees him, and delighted stands.
Oh tow'rds him near, and nearer still she drew,
And now he sports, and wantons in her view.

Extreamly pleas'd, she stroaks his proffer'd Breast,
And his rich Horns with Flow'ry Garlands Drest;
The Maid's behaviour did more Courteous prove,
Than it had been, if she had known him Jove.
Half kneeling now, the Am'rous Bull bends down.
And the Maid mounts his Back, ah, too too vent'rous grown.
Strait, by degrees, on tow'rds the Seas he flies,
Then, rushing thro' the Floods, bears fast his Royal prize.
Shrieking she turns, to view her Native shores,
Whilst the Triumphant Bull, loud as the Oceans roars.
The frighted Maid, held, with one hand, his horn,
While her loose Robes were in the other born.
With constant Eyes, she view'd the shore behind,
Her lighter Garments flying with the Wind;
Trembling her self, and as they flutt'ring flew,
The very Garments seem'd to tremble too.