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Thy first Belov'd was the Thessalian Fair,
O Phœbus! not from Chance thy am'rous Care,
But from Revenge of thy Corrival sprung,
With thy Success, and thy Reproaches stung,
For when the God, who late the serpent flew,
Saw the young Archer bend the stubborn Yew,
Fond Boy! he said, those manly Arms forbear,
Arms which are only fit for me to wear.
Th' unerring Wounds we gave the Monster show
Our Hand can never err against a Foe:
See Python, far-extended on the Plain,
Who by innumerable Wounds lies slain;
Then, with thy Torch content vain Fires to light,
Forbear those Arrows, nor invade my Right.
Then Venus' Son: Thy Bow may never err,
But mine shall conquer thee, the Conqueror:
As far as Brutes beneath a Pow'r Divine,
So far thy Glory shall be less than mine.

This scarcely said, he shakes his painted Wings,
And to Parnassus' shady Summit springs.
There from his Quiver's pointed Store selects
Two diff'rent Darts, as diff'rent in Effects;
For banish'd Love with hasty Speed retires
Before the one, the other Love inspires:
That Love inspires is sharp, and Gold the Head;
The other Reed is tipp'd with blunted Lead.
Daphne with this he wounds; the other Dart
Pierc'd Phœbus' Breast, and rankled in his Heart.
He loves; the Name of Love she, bashful, hates,
And thee, unwed Diana! imitates:
In shady Woods delights her Charms to hide;
Her Hair, neglected, in a Ribbon ty'd,
The Spoils of savage Beasts dependent at her Side.
Her many woe'd; averse from all she flies,
Impatient of a Lord, and all denies:
Free, thro' the unfrequented Woods she goes;
What Love or Hymen are, nor cares, nor knows.
Her Father oft a Son-in-law desires:
Her Father Grandsons oft of her requires.
The Name of Marriage, which as Guilt she dreads,
Her lovely Face with modest Blushes spreads;
And hanging on his Neck; O! grant, she said,
Dear Father! I may ever be a Maid:
Diana's Father did to her consent.
He yields indeed: But, O! that Form was meant,
Thy Virgin Wish, fair Votress! to prevent.
Apollo loves, what he desires believes;
And with his Oracles himself deceives:
As smoaky Stubble does to Ashes turn,
With Wanderer's nightly Fires as Thickets burn;
The am'rous God consumes in secret Fires,
And feeds with barren Hopes his vain Desires.
Loose on her Neck he sees her artless Hair;
And cries, how this might be improv'd with Care?
Her Hands, her Arms expos'd to View admires,
Her Eyes, which emulate celestial Fires:
He sees her ruby Lips each other touch,
And, envious, thinks their Happiness too much.
At his Approach she flies, as swift as Wind,
The God and his Intreaties left behind.
Stay, Nymph! he cries, nor fear me as a Foe;
The tim'rous Hind springs from the Lion so:
So from the Eagle flies the trembling Dove;
They from their Fate, mistaken you from Love.
Ah! thou may'st fall; or on the cruel Thorn,
And I the Cause! thy tender Limbs be torn:
The Ways are rugged whither you repair;
Ah! moderate thy Speed, attend my Pray'r,
More slow I'll follow thee. Yet stay and know,
That 'tis no Mountain Swain pursues you now;
No rugged Herdsman. Ignorant you fly;
Jove is my Father, I, the World's great Eye,
I Delphi, Tenedos, and Claros sway,
My Pow'r the Pataræan Realms obey;
And Future, Past, and Present I survey.
Harmonious Notes to flowing Verse I join:
Sure is my Dart, but one more sure than mine,
Which made those Wounds; for which no Cure I know,
Tho' I'm the great Physician call'd below.
To me, tho' Med'cine it's Invention owes,
And mine is ev'ry potent Plant that grows,
Alas! no Plant a Lover's Wound can heal;
And Arts which others aid their Master's fail.
More he had said, but his imperfect Pray'r
And him, she, tim'rous, leaves: the obvious Air
Waves her light Robes, and fans her flowing Hair.
Her Flight does her neglected Charms improve;
Charms that increas'd the God's impatient Love:
No more he bears his Flatteries to lose,
But now, by Love's Advice, her Steps pursues.
The Hare and Greyhound represent the Strife,
When he contends for Prey, and she for Life:
He seems to seize her now, untouch'd she glides,
And following Fate with doubling Turns avoids.
The God and Maid so in the Chace appear;
He borrows Speed from Hope, and She from Fear:
At length the God prevails, and onward springs,
Close at her Back, for Love had lent him Wings;
Allows no Respite to the fainting Maid,
But, panting, fan'd her Hair that on her Shoulders play'd.
She, spent with Toil, her Father's Help implores,
And anxious looks upon his distant Shores:
Assist, if Deities in Streams reside,
She pray'd, or thou, O Mother Earth! divide;
Or you, ye Pow'rs! to rescue me from Shame,
Destroy my Figure whence the Danger came.
Scarce said, her Limbs with Faintness now opprest,
The rising Bark invades her tender Breast;
To Leaves her graceful Length of Tresses grows,
And now her Arms extend to verdant Boughs:
Her Foot, of late so swift, now downward shoots,
For ever motionless in lazy Roots.

Nor cou'd this wondr'ous Change destructive prove
To Daphne's Beauty or Apollo's Love.
Beneath the Bole, still warm with vital Heat,
He felt her Heart with trembling Motion beat:
Then in the Wood embrac'd the latent Maid;
The modest Wood from his Embraces fled.
Then Phœbus, since my Bride thou can'st not be,
Yet, Laurel! thou shalt be my favo'rite Tree:
My Hair, my Quiver, and my Harp adorn;
Thou shalt by valiant Conquerors be worn,
Who mount the Capitol in solemn State,
While joyful Songs upon their Triumphs wait.
Do thou protect, on either Side the Oak,
Augustus' Palace from the Thunder's Stroak:
And as my Head is crown'd with flowing Hair,
So shall thy Leaves perpetual Verdure wear.

He ends: The grateful Laurel this allows,
And for her Head her leavey Crown she bows,