University of Virginia Library

Where Caria's fertile Plains extended lye,
And with their Golden Plenty charm the Eye,
A Hill there stood — Mount Latmos was the Name,
To Cynthia sacred and her Virgin Train:
A thousand Beauties mark th' inchanted Scene,
Its Fountains Chrystal, and its Forests green:
Here oft in Chase the wandring Goddess stray'd,
Bath'd in its Springs, or slept beneath its Shade:
Here with her Nymphs she spent the Summer Morn,
The Woods resounded with her Silver Horn:
Here oft she past the Ev'ning Hour away,
And eas'd the Labours of the sultry Day.

Not distant far, there dwelt a youthful Swain,
The Pride and Envy of the Neighb'ring Plain;
With all Minerva's manly Virtues blest,
His beauteous Form the God of Love confest;
His Mind superior scorn'd the vulgar Joys,
The aukward Frolic and the Rustic Noise;
But often when the busy Day was o'er,
His secret Steps the Woodland Shades explore,
Where lost in Contemplation's soft Delight,
He spent the silent Hour, — till gloomy Night
Had o'er the Heav'ns her Sable Curtain spread,
And call'd the Swain unwilling to his Bed:
There oft he tun'd his Reed to Sounds of Love,
And like another Orpheus charm'd the Grove.

But chief to range the Woods was his Delight,
When Silver Cynthia show'd her gentle Light;
For oft the Lovely Queen of Night he blest,
And to her Shrine his Midnight Vows addrest.

It hap'd one Eve beneath the Myrtle Shade,
In careless Ease was young Endymion laid,
Soft by the Murmur of a falling Stream,
He breath'd impatient, till the Moment came
To bless his Sight with Cynthia's gentle Beam:
Near him, his Spear lay useless on the Ground,
The gentle Zephyrs play'd in Breezes round;
No Vocal Sounds resounded thro' the Grove,
But Nightingales, that warbled plaintive Love.
“Oh come, (the Shepherd cry'd) auspicious Queen,
“And with thy Presence bless the happy Scene!
“Haste, sacred Cynthia! bid thy Car arise!
“Haste, Cynthia! and ascend yon Azure Skies!
“What tho' thy Brother's Glories strike the Sight,
“Than thine less charming, tho' more strongly bright;
“Thy milder Beauties far outshine the Day,
“And make the gloomy Face of Nature gay!
“Haste Cynthia! nor delay thy chearful Rise,
“And bless Endymion's sad benighted Eyes!

He said — and felt the gentle God of Sleep,
O'er his faint Eyes with soft Advances creep;
The little Cupids watch'd attendant round,
Some pluck'd the Flowers, and some the Garland bound;
Some plac'd the Wreath upon his polish'd Brow,
His Brow that made the darken'd Lilly glow;
Some o'er his Cheeks the falling Ringlets spread,
His Cheeks that taught the Rose a fairer Red;
Thus lay the Youth so ravishingly fair
Cupid himself seem'd to ly sleeping there.

And now fair Cynthia bid her Car arise
And hasten'd up the long benighted Skies:
From whence the Face of Nature wide-display'd,
Oceans, and Plains, and Forests she survey'd.
Soon to her favourite Hill the Goddess past,
And from her Robe the Pearly Dew she cast:
But as by Chance she threw her Veil aside,
The flow'ry Bank, and sleeping Swain she spy'd:
Struck with the Object, ftrait without Delay
Descending to the Place she bends her Way:
The little Cupids startled at the Sight,
Soon left their Charge, and took their hasty Flight:
And now bright Cynthia nearer views his Face,
Her eager Eyes his blooming Features trace;
In Rapture runs each native Beauty o'er,
Still gazes longer, and still wonders more:
Unwilling, now she offers to retire,
Retain'd by strong, till then unknown Desire:
And now she seats her by the sleeping Swain,
And fondly looks — and sighs, — and looks again:
Now o'er his Locks her busy Fingers rove,
His Hand she snatches, and imprints with Love:
At the dear Touch — his drooping Spirits rouze,
He shakes the Slumber from his heavy Brows:
He lifts his Head, and lost in wild Surprize,
On the Majestic Form he fix'd his Eyes. —
He rose, beneath her Feet himself to cast,
While with a soft Embrace she held him fast;
And blushing as she shun'd his tender Look,
The Goddess thus in soft Confusion spoke.

“My Presence, lovely Shepherd! cease to fear,
“'Tis Love alone conducts a Goddess here.
“No Venus I, that new Amours explore,
“My Virgin-Heart was never touch'd before;
“Thy artless humble Vows I long have heard,
“Receive a Mortal, the divine Reward;
“Deserve the Blessing, and prepare to join,
“In sacred Rites thy faithful Hand to mine.

To whom the Swain,-“Bright Goddess! Powerador'd!
“Lo, at thy Feet, I plight my sacred Word!
“Unequal to my Worth my Fate I own,
“Who place no Merit, but in Love alone;
“As Witness of the Nuptial-Vow I swear,
“This Robe, All-charming Cynthia, deign to wear,
“(The same that when eternal Faith he vow'd,
“To fair Calista my fond Sire bestow'd.”) —
So saying — from his Neck the Scarf he drew,
With Pearls and Silver sparkling to the View;
And round the smiling Queen, he fondly plac'd,
With mutual Transports, and Endearments chaste.

Thus oft, if Bards say true, in Latmos' Groves,
(The conscious Scene of their connubial Loves)
When all the wearied World was sunk in Rest,
With his chast Cynthia was Endymion blest:
In mutual Faith unceasing Joys they find,
The Shepherd faithful, and the Goddess kind.

In lovely Leonora's Friendship blest,
Justly the Tale to Florio is addrest:
While other Hearts on lifeless Beauty roll,
Fond of the Face, regardless of the Soul;
Thy virtuous Bosom nobler Motives warm,
And the fair Mind's superior Graces charm.
Like Cynthia's Charms, thy Leonora's please,
Steal on the Heart, and melt by just Degrees;
In native Modesty, with Air serene,
She looks the Goddess, and she moves the Queen.

Like fond Endymion's Passion thine is known,
Such as the Maid without a Blush may own:
And while her Heart with tender Pity flows,
With faithful Love thy generous Bosom glows;
Thro' thy fond Breast, in every vital Vein,
The dear excelling Virgin holds her Reign;
In ev'ry Thought, in every Wish she shares,
Eternal Object of thy pleasing Cares!

May Heav'n all-gracious of your Vows approve,
And crown with just Rewards your constant Love!
Safe may it guard you thro' the rolling Deep,
And for the Fair her faithful Lover keep!
Bring on the destin'd Hour when at the Shrine
The sacred Bond your Destinies shall join!
And give you in her heavenly Arms a Store,
Of Joys, to which the conquer'd World is poor!

So the soft Turtle, when the Storm is o'er,
Flies thro' the Grove his Partner to explore,
From Bough to Bough impatient wings his Way,
In mournful Sounds laments her tedious Stay:
Till tir'd at last, her well-known Note he hears,
The well-known Note his drooping Bosom chears,
He hastes to seek with her the thickest Grove,
Forgets his Absence, and enjoys his Love.