University of Virginia Library

[Book I.]

HERO, Priestess of Venus.

Muse, Sing the Torch which did so useful prove,
To Light the Lover on his way to Love;
That Friendly Torch, which o'er the Billows shone,
And nourish'd Fires, far brighter than its own.
Sing him, who purchas'd an Immortal fame,
And boldly ventur'd o'er the swelling Stream,
Nor could it's rowling Surges quench his Flame.
Thro' the rough Seas, and rising Waves he goes,
To Joys tumultuous, and as high as those.
Exalted Joys, which can no Ebbings know,
But in vast Tides of mighty Raptures flow,
And where no Winds, but Am'rous breezes blow.
He need not tremble when the Tempest's near,
Nor the loud threatnings of the Ocean fear,
Who knows Love's Beauteous Goddess ris'n there.
And Venus surely will Propitious be,
To such fierce Flames as can o'ercome the Sea.
Methinks, Leander now is swimming fast,
Methinks, I see him o'er the Billows hast;
Now, now he cuts his proud, Triumphant way,
Where Crowding Waves around his Body play.
There he is lifted o'er the Tow'ring Flood,
And Seas are flashing from the breaking Cloud.
Methinks, the Torch upon the Tow'r I see,
By Hero plac'd, and almost bright as She.
Blown by rude Winds, I hear it's flaring Light,
Which sputt'ring, Sparkles in the Gloomy Night;
That Torch, the Burning Emblem of their Love,
Which the Immortals should from thence remove,
To shine like Stars, and be a Star above.
Where it will more than usual kindness show,
In guiding Lovers, and their Loves below.
Such was it here, 'till the rough Winds arose,
For tender Sighs, Ah! Too unequal Foes,
For Am'rous murmurs, and soft Gales as those.
Fiercely they rag'd, and soon they overcame
That of the Torch, and then Leander's Flame.
Two Neighb'ring Towns, tho' small, are greatly fam'd,
Abydos one, the other Cestus nam'd.
Each had the view of the Adjacent Lands,
Opposite plac'd upon the lonely Strands.
The Ocean's Waves between them Foam, and Roar,
Washing the Borders of the Patient shore.
But Love, Bold Love, will no such Bars allow,
When ev'n for Gold, the raving Seas we Plow.
Rarely, Ah! Too, too rarely is it prov'd,
That Maids will Love as they have been belov'd;
But here a Beauteous, Charming Fair we find,
Was wond'rous Conqu'ring, yet was wond'rous kind.
Leander's Praises thro' Abydos rung,
He was alone the talk of every Tongue.
That was the Place, was blest with his abode,
Renown'd as much as he had been some God,
For Men who can like him such Passion show,
Are sure Divine, and must Immortal grow.
Near Cestus Hero liv'd, from thence she came,
From her Leander, did receive his Flame.
Thus she the greatness of her Pow'r display'd,
Who at such distance such a Wound had made.
From a long Line of Noble Blood she Sprung,
And Venus Priestess, in her Temple Sung.
Closely retir'd, and near the Boist'rous Sea,
In a tall Tower that other Venus lay.
Its Stately Ruines may as yet be seen,
Which shew Spectatours what it once has been.
On it's High Top with her bright Torch she stood,
To Guide her Lover thro' the Obvious Flood.
The Waters now roll Mournful to the shore,
And, as they did Leander's Fate deplore,
They curl their Melancholy Brows, and Roar.
The Beauteous Maid all wanton Sports deny'd,
Extreamly modest, yet untoucht with Pride.
To publick Balls, and Masques she would not go,
Reserv'd her self, and thought all others so.
She did the wits, and cens'ring Beauties shun,
Would from fond Youths, and from their Courtship run,
If she were Lov'd, she thought she were undone.
With earnest care, and pure desires she strove,
To please her Goddess, and her Son to move.
Now would she Songs of her Adonis sing,
And odo'rous Wreaths of blushing Roses bring.
With those she oft the hov'ring Cupids Crown'd,
And strew'd fresh Flow'rs along the Painted ground.
In vain she thought to make the God grow kind,
For guifts are lost, where the receiver's blind.
Now was the time when Venus Yearly Feasts,
For her dead Lover summon'd all the Guests.
A grateful time, when every Charming Fair,
And Am'rous Youth does to her Shrine repair.
Drawn to that place by an uncertain Fame,
All of each Sex from Thrace, and Cyprus came.
Cythera then scarce could one Virgin boast,
All it's Young Men Abydos too had lost.
On Venus Altar they their Off'rings lay,
But their chief Vows to the bright Ladies pay.
A Pow'r there is which every Soul beguiles,
In killing Eyes, and soft seducing Smiles.
Of all the shining Beauties, not a Maid,
Not one there was, that in the Temple stay'd,
But was more pray'd to, than her self had pray'd.
Before each Charmer's Feet sad Hearts were found,
In their own Bleedings panting on the ground,
For the blind God there gave each Youth a Wound.
He near his Mother's Image laughing stands,
And shoots, and Wounds, with his unerring hands.
But now bright Hero thro' the Fane appear'd,
Whom all the Youth at once both Lov'd and fear'd.
New rising Passion in their Breasts began,
Their Eyes, their Hearts, their Souls on Hero ran.
Soft, tender Sighs from their warm Bosoms flew,
And from each look a pleasing pain they drew.
They came, they saw, and they were there undone,
O'er her dear Face their eager Eyes would run,
They wish'd, and gaz'd, and sigh'd, still wishing on.
Richly attir'd, in sparkling Garments gay,
Fit for the Duties of the Pompous Day.
Glorious she past through the admiring Crowd,
Each gave her way, and as she stept, they bow'd.
An air Majestick in her Face did shine,
Her Cloaths, her Dress did with her looks combine,
Her Mien was Sweet, and she was all Divine.
Her Beauties darted many Thousand ways,
As the Noon-Sun which all his Beams displays,
She with her Glances warms, and he, his rays.
While all the Maids, (in other places Fair)
Seem'd but like Clouds which she had Silver'd there.
The Ancient Lovers but three Graces knew,
But Hero's Face did many Thousands shew,
From her each look, and every Glance they flew.
In wanton play around her Conqu'ring Eyes,
A guilded Host of hovering Graces flies.
O Lovely Priestess, who so much can move!
Extreamly worthy of the Queen of Love!
You who can thus each ravish'd Youth subdue,
May seem the Priestess, and the Goddess too.
With boundless Charms you Conquer every Heart,
And Maid to Venus, thou a Venus Art.
The Captiv'd Youths upon her Beauties gaze,
She both Fires them, and makes the incense blaze.
Whilst the Lov'd Virgin at the Altar stands,
She Acts her Conquests with Triumphant Hands.
The fond Spectators Worship her, much more,
Than she the Queen, whom she does there adore.
For her they Burn with purer Flames by far
Than those she offers to her Goddess are.
In vain the Love-Sick Wretches check their Eyes,
In vain alas! They would their pain disguise.
From her dear Charms, and her Attractive Mien,
They turn their sight, yet strait gaze on again.
Her dear Idea every Lover drew,
For with their Souls, their very Souls they view.
Each glance from her their raging Flames did aid,
And every motion fann'd the Fires she made.
While one of all the wond'ring Crouds around,
Thus spoke his Passion, and declar'd his Wound.
O'er Sparta, fam'd for Beauties, did I rove,
Yet still, 'till now, I was untouch't with Love.
Like Hero ne'er did any Charmer Shine,
Never did Mortal seem before Divine,
The Graces only are at Venus shrine,
In her alone do all perfections meet,
So wond'rous awful, and so wond'rous Sweet!
Long have I gaz'd, yet wish to gaze again,
At once delighted, yet at once in pain.
On her I look, and 'tis with Raptures still,
The Sight of her, like Heav'n, Allures my will.
Oh! I could Smile, and thousand Tortures dare,
Could I at last enjoy this Conqu'ring Fair.
In Hero's Arms let me in transport lie,
And then good Gods! I shall all ills defie,
Give me but her, and I shall never die.
Would she but favour my Ambitious Flame,
I were exalted from what now I am.
Had I but her safe at my own abode,
I would not lose her to be made a God.
Not to be Jove would I my Joys Forego,
But here possess a real Heaven below.
But you, bright Maid, do not my suff'rings see,
Oh! You are ne'er to be enjoy'd by me.
Some blooming Youth with more prevailing Charms,
Must press thee melting in his ravish'd Arms.
Some Happy Swain, who shall deserving prove,
Of all thy Beauties, and of all thy Love.
Grant me, O Venus, this is all my pray'r,
Since of thy Sacred Priestess I Despair.
Grant me some other Fair one to prefer,
Some Loving Nymph that may resemble her.
Thus spoke the Youth, thus made his Passion known,
And stirr'd new Flames, while he reveal'd his own,
For ev'ry hearer was his Rival grown.
And now some other, who a Wound sustain'd,
Thought to declare the Conquest she had gain'd.
In doubts, and fears the Youth had strugled long,
But had not Courage to unlock his Tongue.
Close in the Crowd his fond desires he bore,
And hidden Fires rage ever more, and more.
At last, Leander did the Virgin see,
None Lovelier there, none Loving more than he.
Oft had he heard of Am'rous griefs and pain,
As oft been told of Woman's coy disdain.
He therefore Vow'd, he would not only feel
His racking Pangs, and his Tormenting ill,
Vow'd, he would boldy urge his suff'rings high,
He would not fondly, and in silence die.
Like simple Swains, who haughty Nymphs adore,
Content with that, and never sue for more.
He, with soft Murmurs, and submissive Sighs,
Would tell her where her greatest Conquest lies,
And shew the spoils of her Victorious Eyes.
Declare the wounds, which with her looks were made,
Those Wounds, which she, and only she must aid.
Bravely the Youth with such resolves was fill'd,
But Oh! How little are true Lovers skill'd!
One Glance from her would his late Thoughts confound,
Turn his weak, sickly resolutions round,
And cast his Eyes all bashful on the ground.
In hopes, and doubts the Anxious Youth remains,
In pleasing Joys, yet in perplexing pains.
Unusual Symptoms in his Face appear,
Of new disorders, and of growing fear.
Shame, and amaze do there confus'dly move,
The sure Effects of that strong Poyson, Love.
Now Dark, sad Thoughts obscure his Cloudy Mind,
No Glimpse of Joy can any entrance find.
In hideous forms they lie revolving there,
Dreadful they seem, and he grows all despair.
Then, in his Breast feels Infant light begin
To cast bright rays, and cherish all within.
Then, glorious Images of Bliss he frames,
Vast Floods of pleasures in Immortal streams,
And Swims to Heav'n in fancy's Golden dreams.
Ravish'd all o'er with the Transporting tides,
On Tow'ring Seas of Extasies he rides.
In ev'ry Vein a Liquid Fire does Glow,
And swift desires in mighty Torrents flow.
Now, with a seeming boldness does he press,
To ease his Griefs, and make his suff'rings less.
Thro' Crowds of gazing Rivals he appears,
But as he comes to Hero's sight, he fears.
With looks astonish'd, and with folded Arms,
He views his Mistress in her shining Charms,
She sees him too, and as she sees, she warms.
With wishing Glances, and with longing Sighs,
He meets the glories of her Conqu'ring Eyes;
Perceives them darting wand'ring Beams that way,
Gliding by him did their swift Sun-shine play,
As if they wish'd, but were afraid to stay.
He, all the while, stands silent on the place,
And Feasts his Eyes all o'er her Beauteous Face.
Sometimes, themselves they would in pain withdraw.
For Oh! he fear'd least she should know he saw.
Yet he looks on, all ravish'd with the view,
Fresh Thoughts, fresh Doubts, and fresh Desires pursue,
He's more inflam'd, and then he Sighs anew.
Now the Glad Maid Leander's suff'rings sees,
And all his Torments do the Virgin please.
A secret Joy the Charming Tyrant moves,
She Veils her Beauties, Since she knows he Loves.
For what strange ends are Souls of Women made!
They grieve for Lovers in Romances dead;
But a true Passion, and a real pain,
Meets only coldness, and their harsh disdain;
No more that Female softness will they show,
Their scornful Eyes enjoy the killing woe.
They are all mov'd, when painted Flames they see,
Yet burning Lovers shall unpity'd be.
This Charming Fair, howe'er, her Mind betray'd,
Leander found vast kindness from the Maid.
Swift, tow'rds him oft a wand'ring Glance she sent,
A mighty gain, tho' but a Moment lent.
Then, on a suddain, snatch'd her Eyes away,
Ah! Too, too modest, for they wish'd to stay.
Such cruel kindness do the Skies allow,
Which Lighten'd lately, and grow Darker now.
Yet the fond Youth conceives an inward bliss,
And hopes her Fires will rise, sublime as his.
Now, as he wish'd, the Grateful Ev'ning came,
And he resolv'd he would reveal his Flame.
The scatter'd Crowds to their abodes repair,
And leave the Virgin, and her Lover there.
All Venus off'rings, and her Feasts were done,
And he beholds his Goddess left alone.
The growing Darkness does his Courage aid,
And now he ventures to address the Maid;
First, bowing low, submissively he stands,
Then look'd, and sigh'd, and gently prest her hands.
She at the first, dissembled all her Mind,
Forc'd to grow Angry, least she should grow kind.
She made no Answer, but in scorn she flew,
And from his hold her Lovely Hands withdrew,
Yet look'd so fond, she made him hope anew.
With Loving Eyes she did invite his stay,
And all Resentments, which were feign'd, betray.
To the glad Youth her wav'ring Thoughts were known.
As well he knew them, as he knew his own.
Half frowning now, she all her weakness shows,
For now she smiles, and more Serene she grows.
The Tortur'd Lover all Despair appears,
Dejected seems, and sheds unmanly Tears.
No wonder Waters of such sort distil,
When raging Fires his Breast with burnings fill.
Fondly again he does approach his Fair,
With hated force both to himself, and her.
Seizes her Hand with a more eager press,
And now Conducts her to a close recess.
The trembling Virgin seem'd, at first, affraid,
And an unwilling, Faint resistance made.
She seem'd to check him, nor was silent long,
And ask'd him why he offer'd such a wrong.
Pray'd him desist, and give his rudeness o're,
Strugling with him, but with her self much more.
How, Sir, she cry'd, can you such boldness show,
Is this your Passion, this the Love you owe?
How do you dare to use a Virgin so?
A spotless Maid should not be thus pursu'd,
But with pure Words, and awful Homage woo'd.
Be gone, reply not, but from hence repair,
All your rash Acts, and loose desires forbear,
Such Crimes my Kinsmen are too Just to spare.
I thought my Office, and my Goddess Shrine
Might have deterr'd you from your soul design.
But if you still should urge your Passion on,
I shall shriek out, and force you to be gone.
Such Words as these did not Leander move,
He hopes such threats are the effects of Love.
Maids are like Soldiers in beleaguer'd Towns,
With Warlike Pomp they show their Bulwark'd grounds.
They sound their Trumpets, and they beat the Drum,
And to the Ramparts all their forces come.
Fiercely they Fire on the prevailing Field,
But if they find this fail them, then they yield.
The Lover now did all his Loves unfold,
Fond were his Thoughts, which he as fondly told.
A thousand things he spoke to move his Fair,
With pleasing Voice, and with a taking air.
Deeply he sigh'd, and by the Gods he Swore,
By all the Gods that he did e'er adore,
He Worship'd them, but her he Worship'd more.
In Words like these, he did his griefs explain,
With wishing looks told all his Anxious pain,
He Vow'd, and sigh'd, and then he gaz'd again.
Goddess, he says (for thou art sure Divine)
No Mortal e'er had any Charms like thine.
Forgive this Passion, which your Beauty moves,
For none can see you, but of force, he Loves.
And if you would not be reputed dear,
Your only way is, you must ne'er appear.
Whate'er my Actions, and my Gestures be,
They all are caus'd by my desires for thee.
If, I have err'd, from you my error sprung,
You guide my Heart, as my Heart guides my Tongue.
And sure your goodness will not Vengeance show,
And Damn the Sinner, when you made him so.
Your Office too in my behalf I move,
Who are the Priestess to the Queen of Love.
You cannot Duty to your Goddess pay,
Nor, while a Virgin, her Commands obey.
Priestess, and Maid, a Contradiction cause,
You are not her's, till you perform her Laws.
If you for Venus any honour have,
You shew it most, when you admit a Slave.
For your own sake, I beg a soft return,
You may provoke her with a further scorn.
Fair Atalanta was unkind, like you,
She still deny'd to hear her Lovers sue,
But the Just Goddess, for her haughty Pride,
Took full Revenge for all the Youths that dy'd.
Pity me, Hero, nor my Flames despise,
Flames, that were kindled at your Radiant Eyes.
So high they blaze, with such a pure desire,
Brightly they shine, as Elemental Fire.
By Nature always do they upwards move,
A Just excuse for my Ambitious Love.
Beneath the Concave of the Moon they lie,
But mine, more bold, disdain the lower Sky,
To you, my Sun, from whence they came, they fly.
Still Tow'ring up, they somewhat great pursue,
And aim at nothing less than Heav'n, or you.
Hot, Fiery bolts will by the Gods be hurl'd,
And wond'rous burning will consume the World;
At that dread time, when all the Seas shall roar,
With scorchings, louder than with Winds before.
Ev'n then, my Fair, the Earth more ease shall find,
Than there is now in my Tormented Mind.
Believe me, Charmer, by your self I swear,
You fill my Mind, and you are all my care.
While Life shall last, while I have any Pow'rs,
Your true Adorer shall be always yours.
Honours, nor Empires, nor the Joys above,
Shall thy dear Image from my Breast remove,
The highest bliss that is in Heav'n is Love.
For thee, my Passion is excessive great,
I suffer more than Man e'er suffer'd yet.
I love you, Fairest Maid, to that degree,
I cannot live, unless possess't of thee.
This, and much more in pleasing Terms he spoke,
And all the Virgin's resolutions broke.
With bashful Eyes, fixt on the Earth, she stands,
And now, uncheck'd, she lets him Grasp her hands.
His eager presses run thro' every Vein,
Which she almost wish'd to return again.
A conscious Blush her Beauteous Face o'er-spread,
Which shew'd her Coyness, and her scorn were fled.
White Flags hang out, when Warlike places yield,
But 'tis the Red surrenders Beauty's Field.
Leander's Words possess her ravish'd Ears,
And every accent all anew she hears.
Charm'd with his Voice, and it's bewitching sound,
Each Word he speaks does all her senses Wound.
Soft, pleasing pains, and gentle heat she feels,
They fill her Breast, and she perceives their ills.
Her vertue now, that Frozen Snake, does move,
Warm'd by the Fires of a new glowing Love.
Her fonder Passions, and her doubts engage,
Confus'dly met in an Intestine rage.
Her Hopes, and Fears, her Thoughts, and Wishes Jar,
And fiercely strive in an uncertain War.
By diff'rent gusts of an unsetled Mind,
Like a Poor Ship tost by each threatning Wind,
Now to this point, and now to that inclin'd.
By each Tempestuous blast she's wildly tost,
Dasht by each Wave, and in an Ocean lost.
One while, she thinks of Honour, and of Fame,
And the Priz'd blessing of a spotless Name.
Then, she contemns what she before desir'd,
For the Sweet Youth again the Virgin Fir'd,
She saw his shape, and as she saw admir'd;
Was with his Gestures, and behaviour mov'd,
And pity'd kindly, and now kindly Lov'd.
Her pain renews, and every Glance he gives,
Augments his own, and her dear Flames revives.
Each sigh Exasperates her fond desire,
Whispers soft Thoughts, and Fans the raging Fire.
Thus, Love and Vertue did divide the Maid,
He saw the War, and for the Conquest pray'd.
While now all bashful, and in strange surprize,
Fast on the ground she cast her wishing Eyes.
His in vast transport, wond'rous pleasures felt,
For, on her Neck, her Beauteous Neck they dwelt.
Then the blest Epicures had Richer Feasts,
They saw the risings of her swelling Breasts.
Seated, like Gods, upon those Snowy Hills,
They sport, and play, at their own wanton Wills,
And every look the ravish'd Lover Kills.
They Swim in Pleasures, which in Torrents run,
But ah! How soon is the short Ever gone!
The Virgin's Love all further bars denies,
(And Flames by Nature still will highest rise.)
Soft, fond Emotions had o'ercome the Maid,
A sweet Confusion o'er her Face was spread,
And all in Blushes these kind Words she said.
Who, ah! who taught you this great skill in Love?
Such Charms as these the very Rocks might move;
The coldest Rocks, dasht by the roaring Seas,
Might sure be warm'd, with such bright Flames as these.
Such cunning Arts, and taking ways you show,
Too well, I fear, how to deceive you know.
You are a stranger, and are learnt to cheat,
And now would Practise but some new deceit.
Alas! (and then she blush'd) why came you here?
I cannot Love, and you are lost,—I fear.
Would you had never seen me, O ye Power's!
Not seen my Face, nor I have look'd on yours.
Suppose, Sweet Youth, I should return your Flame,
I must be still the same, as now I am.
My Parents will not grant that I should wed,
And so you never can enjoy my Bed.
And secret Pleasures I will ne'er allow,
Against stol'n Joys I made a solemn Vow.
And should I grant them, it would soon be known
In every Village, and Censorious Town.
Tho' Fame flies swifter than the Eastern Wind,
She leaves no story, no report behind.
But gathers something, whereso'er she goes,
And oft tells more, than what she Justly knows.
Howe'er, your Name, and your abode declare,
Tho' not soft Passion, I can Pity bear.
In yonder Tow'r, with my old Maid I lie,
None else inhabit there but she, and I.
The Foaming Waves beneath its ramparts flow,
They are the only Visitants we know.
The Whistling Winds do with the Waters Jar,
And with loud noise Proclaim a dreadful War.
No Nymphs, or Youths do to our Borders come,
We live all Friendless, and alone at home.
No found of Musick does my slumbers break,
The roaring Billows all my Musick make.
No People Travel our deserted ways,
No Neighbours near us, but the Neighbouring Seas.
Thus when she said, the Maid again withdrew,
And hid her Face from her Leander's view,
Which now with Blushes was o'erspread anew.
She thinks she too much fondness has exprest,
And fears her Language has her Flames confest,
For, much she told her self, and Blushes told the rest.
Each Word she spoke her tender Lover mov'd,
Her every look declar'd how well she Lov'd.
And now the ravish'd Youth, with longing Eyes,
By slow degrees, Charms still, and thus replies.
Thus, with Attractive Mien, his silence broke,
And, humbly bowing, languish'd, as he spoke.
Shall Airy nothings our Delights o'erthrow,
Without the forces of a real Foe?
Let Fame, and Honour unregarded be,
Those Shaddows never should discourage me,
Who with my Flames dare venture thro' the Sea.
Not Heaven's bright Flashes o'er the Waves shall fly,
With greater safety, or more swift than I.
Tho' big with dangers every Billow swell,
And tumble down to a low depth, like hell.
Tho' the whole Ocean with loud tempests roar,
And Barks lie scatter'd on the foamy shore,
I ne'er shall meet with any dreadful harms,
Steering my Course to those Lov'd, happy Arms.
The hardship only will encrease the bliss,
(If ought encreases what Immortal is.)
I would scorn Joys got in the common road,
For thee, my Heav'n, I would outdare a God.
Yes, every Night, I will Abydos leave,
And all the Terrours of the Ocean brave,
Outface each Wind, and every faithless Wave.
But this (O Life of Love!) you needs must grant;
(For 'tis a kindness I shall greatly want.)
Let a bright Torch shine from your Tow'r afar,
While I, Love's bark, make that my guiding Star.
For you, my Fair, the Hellespont I'll Plow,
With his own Arms shall your bold Lover Row.
For you I burn with such a fierce desire,
That I would swim to thee thro' Seas of Fire.
I need not beg you of the storms beware,
For, if you Love, you will extreamly fear,
And who, Ah! who would lose the blessing near!
Now, dearest Maid, since you my Name would know,
It is Leander that adores you so.
These, and ten Thousand other things he said,
Soft moving things, which melted down the Maid.
'Till Hero's Flames to such a height were grown,
She says alas! She is no more her own.
In conscious Blushes her consent appears,
In rising sighs, and in new falling Tears.
Whilst the fond Youth drank up the trickling dew,
To all her Conquests still she added new.
Close to her glowing Cheeks his own he prest,
How happy then, how greatly was he blest!
She tells him now, she will a Torch prepare,
And Crys, dear Youth, ah! Dearest Youth, beware.
Not her own Life will she more safely guard,
For Oh! Her Life is not to his prefer'd.
With taking fondness, and in softest ways,
The Lovers languish, and each other please.
To him her grant did rising Joys afford,
He Kiss'd, and stopt her at each broken Word.
In tender Murmurs he declar'd his bliss.
While their Souls met, at every eager Kiss.
Ten thousand now o'er all her Face he spread,
He Kiss'd, and Mark't her, with his Kisses, red.
With willing Lips she the Embrace allows,
And ravisht, he grows lavish of his Vows.
Oft by the Sea, which he must trust, he Swore,
Oft by the Goddess, whom the Ocean bore,
And wish'd, if false, he might not reach the shore.
Without repulse, he would enjoy the Maid,
But with endearments she his suit declay'd.
With interfering Kisses, which she gave,
His bliss was such, he could no greater crave.
Such are the taking ways, which Women shew,
They make their Charming fondness always new,
And that, which raises, can appease us too.
With cunning Arts, our ful-spread Fires they blow,
We inward burn, and a pure brightness show.
His high desires could not have e'er been born,
Had she repay'd them with a killing scorn.
Such rigid coldness would inrage him most,
We feel worst scorchings in the hardest Frost.
But she, kind Beauty! Made a fit return,
And with like Passion, as himself, did burn.
Whene'er the Youth her hand with presses warm'd,
She grew all ravish'd, all o'er-joy'd, and Charm'd.
Vast were Pleasures, nor could his be less,
She gave him Kiss for Kiss, and press for press.
Thus took they earnest of the wish'd delight,
Which she defer'd, till the next happy Night.
Often they sigh'd, and many looks they cast,
Each one of which they did design their last.
Another still did the fond Lovers crave,
Another yet, and yet another last they gave.
Gazing he went, and took a distant view,
Then stepping short, look'd back, and gaz'd anew.
Till in fond wand'rings from her sight he stray'd,
Then, in Idea he beheld the Maid.
Frequent remarks he on the ways did make,
Least the next Night he should the road mistake.
And now on Board, he saw the Active Oars
Plow the rough deep, as they remov'd the shores.
That tedious Night he at Abydos lies,
And fancies Hero still before his Eyes.
In broken slumbers now he Clasps his Fair,
In Dreams he Courts her, and Embraces there.
Thus the Night flies, on slow-Wing'd Clouds away,
But oft he curses the long, ling'ring Day.
The Sun stands still to him, nor does he know,
How to divert himself, or where to go.
With folded Arms, he wanders up and down,
Then, finds Acquaintance in his Native Town.
He, thoughtful still, no talk to Friends affords,
And hears, unnotic'd, all their Pleasant Words.
Whate'er he did, or whatsoe'er he said,
His Mind still ran upon the Charming Maid.
But now the Night it's usual Darkness spreads,
O'er all the Seas, and o'er the flow'ry Meads.
Each Breast it did with Pleasing Calmness fill,
Which was a stranger to Leander still.
And now he Walks, upon the stormy shore,
Slights all the Billows, when he hears them roar,
Impatent grown, and longs to venture o'er.
Fancies, he now has stemm'd the furious tide,
And is already at the farther side.
Fancies, his Hero on the Strands appears,
Conceives, the Marks her tender Passion wears,
And meets her smiling, yet all o'er in Tears.
Again he doubts she may be grown unkind,
Or fears to trust him to the Faithless Wind.
A thousand wild Conjectures does he make,
And still the old one, for some new, forsake.
But now the Maid, who could not brook delay,
Lights the bright guide, to call her Love away.
Now, to the Tow'r his longing Eyes he cast,
And sees the Torch, his Nuptial Star, at last.
To him, it seems Just from the Seas to rise,
Appearing fixt in the far distant Skies.
The grateful object did new Thoughts Create,
And Planet like, as well as light, shot heat.
It made his Extasie of pain the more,
And now, his Veins in boiling rage run o'er.
In other things, whatever Stars may do,
The Stars of Love, 'tis sure, vast Pow'r can shew.
Howe'er, concern'd, the roaring Waves he hears,
The winds raise them, and with them, rise his fears,
And each sunk Sea, like a deep grave appears.
Between two ills did the fond Lover move,
The Ocean's storms, and the worse storms of Love.
Which shall he chose, of these two sad extreams,
To die by Waters, or to die by Flames?
Flames, which the fury of the Floods survive,
The Floods but serv'd to keep the Flames alive.
He calls on Venus, and repeats her Name,
Venus, he knew, from the rough Ocean came;
Venus, the Goddess who had heard his Vow,
To her he prays, and begs her succour now.
Then, bravely Naked, he the Waves divides,
With Manly force, stemms the opposing tides,
And in proud State, like a Sea-God he rides.
His Arms his Oars, he Plow'd the swelling Flood,
While his dear Hero on the Turret stood.
Tost with her doubts, and trembling with her fears,
His mighty toil but small to her's appears.
She watch'd the Wind, and its inconstant blasts,
And her rich Robe round the bright Torch she casts.
Her Robe, which like some Beauteous Streamer flew,
And Born out from her, with each Wind that blew,
Flutter'd, and seem'd, as it was trembling too.
Now the glad Youth had reach'd the Sestian Coast,
While the fond Virgin in her Thoughts was lost.
But soon she sees him on the nearer shore,
She hasts, and meets, and bids him welcome o'er,
And round him casts the Mantle which she wore.
Now, now she clasps him, and with kind Embrace,
She spreads warm Kisses o'er his watry Face,
And brings new Vigour, and new heat apace.
While the cold Youth stood wet, and shiv'ring there,
The trickling drops fell from his flowing Hair.
Strait, was he thence to her own Chamber brought,
Furnish'd with Works, which her fair hands had wrought.
She there provides sweet Essences, and Oyls,
Fit to refresh him, after all his Toils.
Scarce yet recover'd, on the Bed he's lay'd,
And his strong Limbs surpriz'd the ravish'd Maid,
Which she with silent, eager Joy survey'd.
Then, all desire, into his Arms she flew,
And did ten Thousand Marks of kindness shew,
In such fond ways as made him wish anew.
With taking Air she did beside him lie,
While Words, like these, from her dear Lips did fly;
Life's Death without thee, with thee, Life to die.
For me, my Love, what wonders have you done!
Into what Deaths, what Dangers have you run!
Had you been lost, I too had been undone.
To such vast heights no Flames, but yours, e'er flew,
None, none alive so nobly dar'd as you,
A Love, as boundless as the Seas, you shew.
Repose, dear Youth, your weary'd Spirits here,
Upon these Breasts, if any Charms they bear.
These Breasts,—which soon as she had sweetly said,
With a close Kiss her further speech he stay'd.
Thus flows the dearest, softest Night away,
In close enjoyments, and in wanton play,
While she says fondly he shall ever stay.
Sporting they lie, and look, and sigh a while,
Then snatch a kiss, and at each other smile.
No dull, untimely Mirth, or solemn State,
Or dance, or Musick, on their Nuptials wait.
No Barb'rous Fool tells here his loathsom Jests,
Such as are usual at the Marriage Feasts.
Nor, while the Bride by her dear Lover sighs,
Impertinently vex her, where she lies.
No glaring Torches here destroy the Night,
But a still Lamp affords a glimm'ring light.
These stealths were seen but by the Stars alone,
The hasty Sun still found Leander gone.
He, with regret does from his Hero go,
How dreadful then do all the Surges show!
When her dear Arms must now no longer please,
Still with his own he seems to climb the Seas.
By day, she always led a Virgin's Life,
And was, by Night, more blest than any Wife.
So oft Leander did the Ocean Plow,
That he was known to every Dolphin now.
Thus they a while with secret Joys were Crown'd,
With all the Joys successful Love e'er found.
The changing Moon a waining visage wore,
Yet found them constant, and their Flames still more.
The flowing tides, which swell'd the rising Main,
Embrac'd those Strands, which they forsook again.
But still no Ebb was in their Passion known,
The Sea of Love was still the greater grown.
But Oh! How faithless Fortune's gifts appear!
He's rashly fond, who values blessings here.
Now Winter hasts, and dreadful Tempests brings,
And raging Storms on it's fierce, Windy Wings,
Impetuous blasts o'er all the Surges Reign,
And wond'rous outrages infest the Main;
(The Lovers wish for Halcyon Days in vain.)
On the cold shores the Sea-men trembling stand,
And scarce believe they are secure, at land.
But Oh! no danger does Leander Mind,
Love on this score may well be counted blind.
No Jarring Seas or Winds his Soul can move,
Their discord seems but Harmony for Love.
His fierce desire does on his Mind impose,
And nearer much the fatal Turret shows.
He sees the Torch, and he must hast away,
Tho' the loud blasts seem'd to Commands his stay.
In spight of Storms, in spight of Winds, and Rain,
He forces Waves, which dash him back again.
Oft, tho' repuls'd, with all his utmost Pow'rs,
He cuts this Billow, and o'er that he Tow'rs.
Hero, methinks, should grant some respit now,
And tedious absence for a while allow.
The tempting Torch should have more cautious been,
When not one Star dare in the Heav'ns be seen.
It's tender Mistress did no danger know,
For her hard fate alas! had order'd so.
The gloomy Night a double darkness spread,
As if it Mourn'd the black Decrees were made.
Yet oft the light'nings in swift Flashes flew;
Which did the horrors of the Night renew.
While Peals of rowling thunder loudly roar,
And the big Ocean seem'd to thunder more.
Braving Heaven's threats, the breaking Billows fly,
Like dashing Clouds, when Bolts have shook the Sky.
While the fierce Winds, and the rough Surges Jar,
Threat'ning destruction with their dreadful War.
The Poor Leander now, all hopeless, strove,
To make the Sestian shore, and reach his Love.
Here, swelling Seas, like mighty Mountains, show,
There, Vallies Gape, deep, wond'rous deep below.
His frequent Pray'rs the Youth directs, in vain,
To all the Pow'rs presiding o'er the Main.
In vain, to Neptune, whom the Flood obeys,
In vain, to Venus, oft in vain he prays,
Venus, much deafer than her Mother Seas.
In such distress what could complaints perform?
They serv'd alas! But to encrease the storm.
Yet, the rough Boreas he did most asswage,
Orythia nam'd, he could no longer rage.
The stubb'orn Wind did mild, and gentle grow,
And but in Murmurs, and in sighs could blow.
But now the Youth, while strugling with the tide,
Fails of his strength, nor can the Waves divide.
He breaks the Seas no more with Manly toil,
In Triumph, down they bear their wretched spoil.
The Tempest still grows louder in the Sky,
While the tost Floods with angry Pride run high.
And now, a blast, an envious blast takes flight,
Prevailing still on the well guarded Light.
The storm's loud Malice, with success it Crowns,
The Torch goes out, and now Leander Drowns.
Dash'd with the Ocean's rude insulting streams,
Which fill his Throat, as he his Hero Names.
She, all the While, dreads his unusual stay,
Restless, and list'ning, as awake she lay.
Oft, her Wild fears his real Dangers shew,
Then, she hopes fondly they are all untrue.
A fair pretence does oft our sense deceive,
For, what we wish, we can with ease believe.
She thinks that then he would not venture o'er,
For new delights, and Joys unknown before.
But soon she Starts, while her Thoughts strangely rove,
And rising cries, then are you come, my Love?
But disappointed, she more fearful grew,
And fancy'd dismal, hideous things anew:
What cannot fancy, help'd by Darkness, do!
Her Sickly Mind shews her Leander come,
Shews him all wet, and shiv'ring in the Room.
Dropping, and Pale, he stands beside her Bed,
With folded Arms, and with dejected Head;
To Tempt him still with Thousand Charms she tries;
The pleasing Image her Embraces flies.
She, still perplext such by delusions, lay,
Till the approach of the sad, conscious Day.
Mournful she rose, and Clouded as the Skies,
And views the dreadful Sea, with Cautious Eyes.
While her fond fancy, to divert her fear,
Shews him now wand'ring there, now wand'ring here.
But ah! no more it can such visions shew,
It brings false things, but never hides the true.
The bruis'd, torn Body she beholds at last,
Which, some kind Wave beneath the Tower had cast.
The killing object was too quickly known,
And with a sudden Shriek, she leapt all headlong down.