Chapter VII.
HE.
Thou lovely offspring of a princely race,
How graceful is thy mien! Thy slender legs
With buskins ty'd of ornamental cost!
What just proportion shines in ev'ry part!
What artful hand such excellence can trace!
Like summer harvests fruitful, and as fair
As silver lillies in their snowy pride.
Her breasts like twins of young unspotted roes.
Her neck an iv'ry column fitly plac'd.
But what can match the splendor of her eyes!
Not Heshbon's limpid current, when the sun
Reflected sparkles on the crystal wave.
As Lebanon's high palace, op'ning wide
In dazzling prospect to the distant hills,
Such perfect symmetry her features boast.
As Carmel's top with plenteous verdure crown'd,
Her head a flowing length of shining hair
With silken ringlets decks.—Th' enamour'd king,
Held by her beauty, in the gallery stays.
How fair thou art! how fashion'd for delight!
Thy stature like the shapely palm, thy breasts
Like swelling clusters of the juicy vine:
I'll climb the palm, and with its verdant boughs
My joyful temples crown; the juicy vine
Shall with its swelling clusters please my taste.
The vernal sweetness of thy rosy lips
The ambient air perfumes; while in thy voice
Celestial music charms my list'ning ears:
Thy voice would stay th' invading sleep of death,
And with immortal rapture fill the soul.
SHE.
What joy can equal this transporting thought,
That my beloved's mine, and I am his!
Come, let us to the peaceful village haste,
There lodge at night; and at the early dawn
With thee I'll range the solitary fields,
Observe the vineyards, how their branches shoot,
How in its prime the fresh pomegranate glows;
These pleasing scenes shall tender thoughts inspire,
Improve our joys, and sooth the heav'nly flame.
Come, let us hasten to our country-seat,
The blooming season in its prime appears;
The mandrakes at our gates perfume the air;
Within, what choice autumnal plenty yields,
Or early springs produce, fruits new and old
Of pleasing taste are all reserv'd for thee.
