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ODE XXIX. BATHYLLUS.
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75

ODE XXIX. BATHYLLUS.

Now, illustrious Artisan,
Paint the well-proportion'd Man;
Once again the Tints prepare,
Paint Bathyllus young and fair.
Draw his Tresses soft and black,
Flowing graceful down his Back,
Auburn be the curl'd Extremes,
Glowing like the solar Beams;

76

Let them negligently fall,
Easy, free, and artless all.
Let his bright cærulean Brow
Grace his Forehead white as Snow.
Let his Eyes, that glow with Fire,
Gentlest, mildest Love inspire;
Steal from Mars the radiant Mien,
Softness from th'Idalian Queen;

77

This, with Hope the Heart to bless,
That, with Terror to depress.
Next, his Cheeks with Roses crown,
And the Peach's dubious Down;
And, if Art can this bestow,
Let the Blush ingenuous glow.
But Description would be faint,
Teaching you his Lips to paint:
There let fair Persuasion dwell,
Let them gently, softly swell,
Seem in sweetest Sounds to break
Willing Air, and silent speak.
Now you've finish'd high the Face,
Draw his ivory Neck with Grace;
All the Charms and Beauty add,
Such as fair Adonis had.
Let me, next, the Bosom see
And the hands of Mercury.

78

But I'll not presume to tell,
Artist, you who paint so well,
How the Foot should be exprest,
How to finish all the rest.
I the Price you ask will give,
For the Picture seems to live:
Gold's too little, view this Piece,
'Tis the pictur'd Pride of Greece;
This divine Apollo take,
And from this Bathyllus make.
When to Samos you repair,
Ask for young Bathyllus there,
Finest Figure Eye e'er saw,
From Bathyllus Phœbus draw.