A female form at last Vertumnus wears, With all the marks of rev'rend age appears, His temples thinly spread with filver hairs; Prop'd on his staff, and stooping as he goes, A painted mitre shades his furrow'd brows. The god in this decrepit form array'd The gardens enter'd, and the fruit survey'd, And "Happy you! (he thus address'd the maid) " Whose charms as far all other nymphs out-shine, "As other gardens are excell'd by thine! Then kiss'd the fair; (his kisses warmer grow Than fuch as women on their sex bestow.) Then plac'd beside her on the flow'ry ground, Beheld the trees with autumn's bounty crown'd. An Elm was near, to whose embraces led, The curling vine her swelling clusters spread : He view'd her twining branches with delight, And prais'd the beauty of the pleasing sight. Yet this tall elm, but for his vine (he faid) Had ftood neglected, and a barren shade; And this fair vine, but that her arms furround Her marry'd elm, had crept along the ground. Ah beauteous maid, let this example move Your mind, averse from all the joys of love. Deign to be lov'd, and ev'ry heart subdue! What nymph could e'er attract such crouds as you? Not she whose beauty urg'd the Centaur's arms, 71 Ulyffes' Queen, nor Helen's fatal charms.
Nunc quoque, cum fugias averserisque petentes,
Mille proci cupiunt; et semideique deique,
Et quaecunque tenent Albanos numina montes.
Sed tu, si sapies, fi te bene jungere, anumque
Hanc audire voles, (quae te plus omnibus illis,
Plus quam credis amo) vulgares rejice taedas:
Vertumnumque tori focium tibi selige: pro quo
Me quoque pignus habe. neque enim fibi notior ille
Quam mihi. nec toto paffim vagus errat in orbe.
Haec loca fola colit; nec, uti pars magna procorum, Quam modo vidit, amat. tu primus et ultimus illi
Ardor eris; folique suos tibi devovet annos.
Adde, quod eft juvenis: quod naturale decoris
Munus habet; formasque apte fingetur in omnes :
Et, quod erit juffus (jubeas licet omnia) fiet.
Quid, quod amatis idem? quod, quae tibi poma co
Primus habet; laetaque tenet tua munera dextra?
Sed neque jam foetus desiderat arbore demtos,
Nec, quas hortus alit, cum succis mitibus herbas;
Ev'n now, when filent scorn is all they gain,
A thousand court you, tho' they court in vain,
A thousand fylvans, demigods, and gods,
That haunt our mountains and our Alban woodst
But if you'll profper, mark what I advife,d
Whom age, and long experience render wife, oft
And one whose tender care is far above
All that these lovers ever felt of love,
(Far more than e'er can by yourself be guest)
Fix on Vertumnus, and reject the rest.
For his firm faith I dare engage my own;
Scarce to himfelf, himself is better known.
To distant lands Vertumnus never roves;
Like you, contented with his native groves;
Nor at first sight, like most, admires the fair;
For you he lives; and you alone shall share
His last affection, as his early care.
Besides, he's lovely far above the reft,
With youth immortal, and with beauty bleft.
Add, that he varies ev'ry shape with ease,
And tries all forms that may Pomona please.
But what should most excite a mutual flame,
Your rural cares, and pleasures are the fame:
To him your orchards early fruits are due,
(A pleasing off'ring when 'tis made by you)
He values these; but yet (alas) complains,
That still the best and dearest gift remains.
VOL. II.
Nec quidquam, nifi te. miserere ardentis: et ipsum,
Qui petit, ore meo praesentem crede precari.-
Sic tibi nec vernum nafcentia frigus adurat
Poma; nec excutiant rapidi florentia venti.
Haec ubi nequicquam formas Deus aptus in om-
Vimque parat: fed vi non eft opus; inque figura
Capta Dei Nympha est, et mutua vulnera, sentit.
Not the fair fruit that on yon' branches glows
With that ripe red th' autumnal fun bestows;
Nor tasteful herbs that in these gardens rise,
Which the kind soil with milky sap supplies;
You, only you, can move the God's defire:
Oh crown so constant and so pure a fire !
Let soft compaffion touch your gentle mind;
Think, 'tis Vertumnus begs you to be kind!
So may no frost, when early buds appear,
Destroy the promise of the youthful year;
Nor winds, when first your florid orchard blows, 110
Shake the light blossoms from their blasted boughs !
This when the various God had urg'd in vain,
He strait assum'd his native form again;
Such, and so bright an aspect now he bears,
As when thro' clouds th' emerging sun appears, 115
And thence exerting his refulgent ray,
Dispels the darkness, and reveals the day.
Force he prepar'd, but check'd the rash design;
For when, appearing in a form divine,
The Nymph surveys him, and beholds the grace 120
Of charming features, and a youthful face !
In her soft breast consenting passions move,
And the warm maid confess'd a mutual love.
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