Nor can we write without it, nor would you
A tale of only dry instruction view.
Nor love is always of a vicious kind,
But oft to virtuous acts inflames the mind,
Awakes the sleepy vigour of the soul,
And, brushing o'er, adds motion to the pool.
Love, studious how to please, improves our
parts

With polish'd manners, and adorns with arts.
Love first invented verse, and form'd the rhyme,
The motion measur'd, harmoniz'd the chime;
To liberal acts enlarg'd the narrow-soul'd,
Soften'd the fierce, and made the coward bold:
The world, when waste, he peopled with in-

crease,

And warring nations reconcil'd in peace.
Ormond, the first, and all the fair may find,
In this one legend, to their fame design'd,
When beauty fires the blood, how love exalts the
mind.

In that sweet isle where Venus keeps her court,
And every grace, and all the loves, resort;
Where either sex is form'd of softer earth,
And takes the bent of pleasure from their birth;
There liv'd a Cyprian lord above the rest,
Wise, wealthy, with a numerous issue bless'd;
But as no gift of fortune is sincere,
Was only wanting in a worthy heir:
His eldest born, a goodly youth to view,
Excell'd the rest in shape, and outward show,
Fair, tall, his limbs with due proportion join'd,
But of a heavy, dull, degenerate mind.
His soul belied the features of his face:
Beauty was there, but beauty in disgrace.
A clownish mien, a voice with rustic sound,
And stupid eyes that ever lov'd the ground.
He look'd like nature's error, as the mind
And body were not of a piece design'd,
But made for two, and by mistake in one were
join'd.

The ruling rod, the father's forming care,
Were exercis'd in vain on wit's despair;
The more inform'd, the less he understood,
And deeper sunk by floundering in the mud.
Now scorn'd of all, and grown the public shame
The people from Galesus chang'd his name,
And Cymon call'd, which signifies a brute;
So well his name did with his nature suit.

His father, when he found his labour lost, And care empley'd that answer'd not the cost, Chose an ungrateful object to remove, And loath'd to see what nature made him love; So to his country farm the fool confin'd; Rude work well suited with a rustic mind. Thus to the wilds the sturdy Cymon went, A squire among the swains, and pleas'd with banishment.

His corn and cattle were his only care,
And his supreme delight, a country fair,
It happen'd, on a summer's holyday,
That to the green-wood shade he took his way,
For Cymon shunn'd the church, and us'd not

much to pray.

His quarter-staff, which he could ne'er forsake, Hung half before, and half behind his back. He trudg'd along, unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought.

By chance conducted, or by thirst constrain'd,
The deep recesses of the grove he gain'd;
Where in a plain defended by the wood,
Crept through the matted grass a crystal flood,
By which an alabaster fountain stood:
And on the margin of the fount was laid
(Attended by her slaves) a sleeping maid.
Like Dian and her nymphs, when, tir'd with
sport,

To rest by cool Eurotas they resort:
The dame herself the goddess well express'd,
Not more distinguish'd by her purple vest,
Than by the charming features of her face,
And, e'en in slumber, a superior grace:
Her comely limbs compos'd with decent care,
Her body shaded with a slight cymar;
Her bosom to the view was only bare:
Where two beginning paps were scarcely spied,
For yet their places were but signified:
The fanning wind upon her bosom blows,
To meet the fanning wind the bosom rose;
The fanning wind, and purling streams, con-
tinue her repose.

The fool of nature stood with stupid eyes,
And gaping mouth, that testified surprise,
Fix'd on her face, nor could remove his sight,
New as he was to love, and novice to delight:
Long mute he stood, and leaning on his staff,
His wonder witness'd with an idiot laugh
Then would have spoke, but by his glimmering
[fence :

sense

First found his want of words, and fear'd ofDoubted for what he was he should be known, By his clown accent, and his country tone. Through the rude chaos thus the running light Shot the first ray that pierc'd the native night: Then day and darkness in the mass were mix'd, Till gather'd in a globe the beams were fix'd: Last shone the sun, who, radiant in his sphere, Illumin'd heaven and earth, and roll'd around

the year.

So reason in this brutal soul began,
Love made him first suspect he was a man ;
Love made him doubt his broad barbarian

sound;

By love his want of words, and wit, he found.
That sense of want prepar'd the future way
To knowledge,and disclos'd the promise of a day.

What not his father's care, nor tutor's art,
Could plant with pains in his unpolish'd heart,
The best instructor, Love, at once inspir'd,
As barren grounds to fruitfulness are fir'd:
Love taught him shame, and shame, with love
at strife,

Soon taught the sweet civilities of life;
His gross material soul at once could find
Somewhat in her excelling all her kind :
Exciting a desire till then unknown,
Somewhat unfound, or found in her alone.
This made the first impression on his mind,
Above, but just above, the brutal kind.
For beasts can like, but not distinguish too,
Nor their own liking by reflection know;
Nor why they like or this, or t' other face,
Or judge of this, or that peculiar grace;
But love in gross, and stupidly admire :
As flies, allur'd by light, approach the fire.
Thus our man-beast, advancing by degrees,
First likes the whole, then separates what he

sees;

On several parts a several praise bestows,
The ruby lips, the well-proportion'd nose.
The snowy skin, and raven-glossy hair,
The dimpled cheek, and forehead rising fair,
And e'en in sleep itself, a smiling air.
From thence his eyes descending view'd the
rest,
[breast.
Her plump round arms, white hands, and heaving
Long on the last he dwelt, though every part
A pointed arrow sped to pierce his heart.

Thus in a trice a judge of beauty grown, (A judge erected from a country clown) He long'd to see her eyes, in slumber hid, And wish'd his own could pierce within the lid: He would have wak'd her, but restra in'd his thought,

And love new-born the first good manners taught,
An awful fear his ardent wish withstood,
Nor durst disturb the goddess of the wood.
For such she seem'd by her celestial face,
Excelling all the rest of human race :
And things divine, by common sense he knew,
Must be devoutly seen, at distant view ;
So checking his desire, with trembling heart
Gazing he stood, nor would, nor could depart;
Fix'd as a pilgrim wilder'd in his way,
Who dares not stir by night, for fear to stray,
But stands with awful eyes to watch the dawn
of day.

At lenth awaking, Iphigene the fair, (So was the beauty call'd, who caus'd his care,) Unclos'd her eyes, and double day reveal'd, While those of all her slaves in sleep were seal'd.

The slavering cudden, propp'd upon his staff,
Stood ready gaping with a grinning laugh,

To welcome her awake, nor durst begin To speak, but wisely kept the fool within. Then she; What makes you, Cymon, nere alone? (known, (For Cymon's name was round the country Because descended of a noble race, And for a soul ill sorted with his face.)

But still the sot stood silent with surprise, With fix'd regard on her new-open'd eyes, And in his breast receiv'd the envenom'd dart A tickling pain that pleas'd amid the smart. But conscious of her form, with quick distrust She saw his sparkling eyes, and fear'd his bro tal lust.

This to prevent, she wak'd her sleepy crew,
And rising hasty, took a short adieu.

Then Cymon first his rustic voice essay'd,
With proffer'd service to the parting maid,
To see her safe; his hand she long denied,
But took at length, asham'd of such a guide.
So Cymon led her home, and leaving there,
No more would to his country clowns repair,
But sought his father's house, with better mind,
Refusing in the farm to be confin'd.

The father wonder'd at the son's return, And knew not whether to rejoice or mourn But doubtfully receiv'd, expecting still To learn the secret causes of his alter'd will. Nor was he long delay'd: the first request He made, was like his brothers to be dress'd, And, as his birth requir'd, above the rest.

With ease his suit was granted by his sire,
Distinguishing his heir by rich attire:
His body thus adorn'd, he next design'd
With liberal arts to cultivate his mind:
He sought a tutor of his own accord,
And studied lessons he before abhorr'd.
Thus the man-child advanc'd, and learn'd s
fast,

That in short time his equals he surpass'd:
His brutal manners from his breast exil'd,
His mien he fashion'd, and his tongue he fil'd,
In every exercise of all admir'd,
He seem'd, nor only seem'd, but was inspir'd:
Inspir'd by love, whose business is to please;
He rode, he fenc'd, he mov'd with graceful

The drowsy wak'd; and, as he went, impress'd
The Maker's image on the human breast.
Thus was the man amended by desire,
And though he lov'd perhaps with too much fire,
His father all his faults with reason scann'd,
And lik'd an error of the better hand;
Excus'd the excess of passion in his mind,
By flames too fierce, perhaps too much refin'd:
So Cymon, since his sire indulg'd his will,
Impetuous lov'd, and would be Cymon still
Galesus he disown'd, and chose to bear

The name of fool, confirm'd and bishopp'd by the fair.

To Cipseus by his friends his suit he mov'd,
Cipseus the father of the fair he lov'd:
But he was pre-engaged by former ties,
While Cymon was endeavouring to be wise:
And Iphigene, oblig'd by former vows,
Had given her faith to wed a foreign spouse;
Her sire and she to Rhodian Pasimond,
Though both repenting, were by promise
bound,

Nor could retract; and thus as fate decreed,
Though better lov'd, he spoke too late to speed.
The doom was past-the ship already sent
Did all his tardy diligence prevent:
Sigh'd to herself the fair unhappy maid,
While stormy Cymon thus in secret said:
The time is come for Iphigene to find
The miracle she wrought upon my mind:
Her charms have made me man, her ravish'd

love.

In rank shall place me with the bless'd above.
For mine by love, by force she shall be mine,
Or death, if force should fail, shall finish my de-
sign.
[care
Resolv'd he said; and rigg'd with speedy
A vessel strong, and well equipp'd for war.
The secret ship with chosen friends he stor❜d;
And bent to die, or conquer, went aboard.
Ambush'd he lay behind the Cyprian shore,
Waiting the sail that all his wishes bore;
Nor long expected, for the following tide
Sent out the hostile ship and beauteous bride.
To Rhodes the rival bark directly steer'd,
When Cymon sudden at her back appear'd,
And stopp'd her flight: then standing on his
prow,

[vide;

In haughty terms he thus defied the foe:
Or strike your sails at summons, or prepare
To prove the last extremities of war.
Thus warn'd, the Rhodians for the fight pro-
Already were the vessels side by side, [bride.
These obstinate to save, and those to seize the
But Cymon soon his crooked grapples cast,
Which with tenacious hold his foes embrac'd,
And, arm'd with sword and shield, amid the
press he pass'd.

Fierce was the fight, but hastening to his prey,
By force the furious lover freed his way :
Himself alone dispers'd the Rhodian crew,
The weak disdain'd, the valiant overthrew ;
Cheap conquest for his following friends re-
main'd,.

He reap'd the field, and they but only glean'd.
His victory confess'd, the foes retreat,
And cast their weapons at the victor's feet.
Whom thus he cheer'd: O Rhodian youth, I
fought

For love alone, nor other booty sought;
Your lives are safe; your vessel I resign.
Yours be your own, restoring what is mine:
In Iphigene I claim my rightful due,
Robb'd by my rival, and detain'd by you:
Your Pasimond a lawless bargain drove,
The parent could not sell the daughter's love;
Or if he could, my love disdains the laws
And like a king by conquest gains his cause:
Where arms take place, all other pleas are vain,
Love taught me force, and force shall love
maintain.
[lease,
You, what by strength you could not keep, re-
And at an easy ransom buy your peace.

Fear on the conquer'd side soon sign'd the
And Iphigene to Cymon was restor❜d: [accord,
While to his arms the blushing bride he took
To seeming sadness she compos'd her look;
As if by force subjected to his will,
Though pleas'd, dissembling, and a woman still.
And, for she wept, he wip'd her falling tears,
And pray'd her to dismiss her empty fears
For yours I am, he said, and have deserv'd
Your love much better whom so long I serv'd,
Than he to whom your formal father tied
Your vows, and sold a slave, not sent a bride.
Thus while he spoke, he seiz'd the willing prey,
As Paris bore the Spartan spouse away.
Faintly she scream'd,and e'en her eyes confess'd
She rather would be thought, than was dis-
tress'd.

Who now exults but Cymon in his mind?
Vain hopes and empty joys of human kind,
Proud of the present, to the future blind!
Secure of fate, while Cymon ploughs the sea
And steers to Candy with his conquer'd prey,
Scarce the third glass of measur'd hours was run,
When like a fiery meteor sunk the sun;
The promise of a storm; the shifting gales
Forsake, by fits, and fill, the flagging sails;
Hoarse murmurs of the main from far were
heard,

And night came on, not by degrees prepar'd,
But all at once; at once the winds arise,
The thunders roll, the forky lightning flies.
In vain the master issues out commands,
In vain the trembling sailors ply their hands:

The tempest unforeseen prevents their care,
And from the first they labour in despair.
The giddy ship betwixt the winds and tides,
Forc'd back and forwards, in a circle rides,
Stunn'd with the different blows; then shoots
amain,

Till counterbuff'd, she stops, and sleeps again.
Not more aghast the proud archangel fell,
Plung'd from the height of heaven to deepest
hell,

Than stood the lover of his love possess'd, Now curs'd the more, the more he had been bless'd;

More anxious for her danger than his own,
Death he defies; but would be lost alone.

Sad Iphigene to womanish complaints
Adds pious prayers, and wearies all the saints;
E'en if she could, her love she would repent,
But since she cannot, dreads the punishment:
Her forfeit faith, and Pasimond betray'd,
Are ever present, and her crime upbraid.
She blames herself, nor blames her lover less,
Augments her anger, as her fears increase :
From her own back the burden would remove,
And lays the load on his ungovern'd love,
Which interposing, durst, in heaven's despite,
Invade, and violate another's right:
The powers incens'd a while deferr'd his pain,
And made him master of his vows in vain :
But soon they punish'd his presumptuous pride;
That for his daring enterprise she died;
Who rather not resisted, than complied.
Then impotent of mind, with alter'd sense,
She hugg'd the offender, and forgave the offence,
Sex to the last: meantime with sails declin'd
The wand'ring vessel drove before the wind;
Toss'd and retoss'd, aloft, and then alow,
Nor port they seek, nor certain course they
know,

But every moment wait the coming blow. Thus blindly driven, by breaking day they view'd

The land before them, and their fears renew'd; The land was welcome, but the tempest bore The threaten'd ship against a rocky shore.

A winding bay was near; to this they bent: And just escap'd; their force already spent. Secure from storms, and panting from the sea, The land unknown at leisure they survey; And saw (but soon their sickly sight withdrew) The rising towers of Rhodes at distant view; And curs'd the hostile shore of Pasimond, Sav'd from the seas, and shipwreck'd on the ground. [vain, The frighted sailors tried their strength in To turn the stern, and tempt the stormy main; But the stiff wind withstood the labouring oar,

And forc'd them forward on the fatal shore
The crooked keel now bites the Rhodian strand,
And the ship moor'd constrains the crew to
land:

Yet still they might be safe, because unknown,
But as ill fortune seldom comes alone,
The vessel they dismiss'd was driven before,
Already shelter'd on their native shore :
Known each, they know; but each with change
of cheer;

The vanquish'd side exults; the victors fear;
Not them but theirs, made prisoners ere they

fight,

Despairing conquest, and depriv'd of flight.

The country rings around with loud alarms, And raw in fields the rude militia swarms; Mouths without hands; maintain'd at vast expense;

In peace a charge, in war a weak defence: Stout once a month they march, a blustering band,

And ever, but in times of need, at hand; This was the morn, when, issuing on the guard, Drawn up in rank and file they stood prepar'd Of seeming arms to make a short essay, Then hasten to be drunk, the business of the day. [knew

The cowards would have fled, but that they Themselves so many, and their foes so few; But crowding on, the last the first impel: Till overborne with weight the Cyprians fell. Cymon enslav'd, who first the war begun, And Iphigene once more is lost and won.

Deep in a dungeon was the captive cast Depriv'd of day, and held in fetters fast: His life was only spar'd at their request, Whom taken he so nobly had releas'd: But Iphigenia was the ladies' care, Each in their turn address'd to treat the fair: While Pasimond and his the nuptial feast pre

pare.

Her secret soul to Cymon was inclin'd,
But she must suffer what her fates assign'd;
So passive is the church of womankind.
What worse to Cymon could his fortune deal,
Roll'd to the lowest spoke of all her wheel?
It rested to dismiss the downward weight,
Or raise him upward to his former height;
The latter pleas'd; and love (concern'd the
most)

Prepar'd the amends, for what by love he lost.
The sire of Pasimond had left a son,
Though younger, yet for courage early known,
Ormisda call'd, to whom by promise tied,
A

Rhodian beauty was the destin'd bride; Cassandra was her name, above the rest Renown'd for birth, with fortune amply bless'd.

Lysimachus, who rul'd the Rhodian state,
Was then by choice their annual magistrate:
He lov'd Cassandra too with equal fire,
But fortune had not favour'd his desire;
Cross'd by her friends, by her not disapprov'd,
Nor yet preferr'd, or like Ormisda lov'd:
So stood the affair: some little hope remain'd,
That should his rival chance to lose, he gain'd.
Meantime young Pasimond his marriage
press'd,

Ordain'd the nuptial day, prepar'd the feast;
And frugally resolv'd (the charge to shun,
Which would be double should he wed alone)
To join his brother's bridal with his own.

Lysimachus, oppress'd with mortal grief,
Receiv'd the news, and studied quick relief:
The fatal day approach'd; if force were us'd
The magistrate his public trust abus'd;
To justice liable, as law requir'd
For when his office ceas'd, his power expir'd:
While power remain'd, the means were in his
hand

By force to seize, and then forsake the land:
Betwixt extremes he knew not how to move,
A slave to fame, but more a slave to love:
Restraining others, yet himself not free,
Made impotent by power, debas'd by dignity.
Both sides he weigh'd, but after much debate,
The man prevail'd above the magistrate.

Love never fails to master what he finds,
But works a different way in different minds,
The fool enlightens, and the wise he blinds.
This youth proposing to possess and scape,
Began in murder, to conclude in rape : [bless
Unprais'd by me, though heaven some times may
An impious act with undeserv'd success;
The great it seems are privileg'd alone
To punish all injustice but their own.
But here I stop, not daring to proceed,
Yet blush to flatter an unrighteous deed:
For crimes are but permitted, not decreed.

Resolv'd on force, his wit the prætor bent To find the means that might secure the event; Nor long he labour'd, for his lucky thought In captive Cymon found the friend he sought. The example pleas'd: the cause and crime the

The grain intrusted in a grateful ground:
But still the great experiment remain'd,
They suffer'd you to lose the prize you gain'd:
That you might learn the gift was theirs alone:
And when restor'd, to them the blessing own.
Restor❜d it soon will be; the means prepar'd
The difficulty smooth'd, the danger shar'd;
Be but yourself, the care to me resign,
Then Iphigene is yours, Cassandra mine.
Your rival Pasimond pursues your life,
Impatient to revenge his ravish'd wife,
But yet not his; to-morrow is behind,
And love our fortunes in one band has join'd;
Two brothers are our foes, Ormisda mine,
As much declar'd as Pasimond is thine;
To-morrow must their common vows be tied;
With love to friend, and fortune for our guide,
Let both resolve to die, or each redeem a bride.
Right I have none, nor hast thou much to

plead;

'T is force, when done, must justify the deed:
Our task perform'd, we next prepare for flight:
And let the losers talk in vain of right:
We with the fair will sail before the wind,
If they are griev'd, I leave the laws behind.
Speak thy resolves: if now thy courage droop,
Despair in prison, and abandon hope;
But if thou dar'st in arms thy love regain,
(For liberty without thy love were vain ;)
Then second my design to seize the prey,
Or lead to second rape, for well thou know'st
the way.

Said Cymon overjoy'd, Do thou propose
The means to fight, and only show the foes
For from the first, when love had fir'd my mind,
Resoly'd I left the care of life behind.

To this the bold Lysimachus replied,
Let heaven be neuter, and the sword decide,
The spousals are prepar'd, already play
The minstrels, and provoke the tardy day :
By this the brides are wak'd, their grooms are
dress'd;

All Rhodes is summon'd to the nuptial feast,
All but myself, the sole unbidden guest. ·