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To thy delights and Delia I incline,

Make her my Goddess too, because she's thine: 40 I long to know the woods, to drive the deer,

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And o'er the mountains tops my hounds to cheer,
Shaking my dart; then, the chace ended, lie
Stretch'd on the grass : And would'st not thou be by?
Oft in light chariots I with pleasure ride,
And love myself the furious steeds to guide.
Now like a Bacchanal more wild I stray,
Or old Cybele's priests, as mad as they,
When under Ida's hill they off'rings pay:
Ev'n mad as those the deities of night
And water, Fauns and Dryads do affright.
But still each little interval I gain,
Easily find 'tis love breeds all my pain.
Sure on our race, love like a fate does fall,
And Venus will have tribute of us all.
Jove lov'd Europa, whence my father came,
And, to a bull transform'd, enjoy'd the dame:
She, like my mother, languish'd to obtain,
And fill'd her womb with shame as well as pain:
The faithless Theseus by my sister's aid
The monster slew, and a safe conquest made :
Now in that family, my right to save,

I am at last on the same terms a slave;
'Twas fatal to my sister, and to me,

She lov'd thy father, but my choice was thee.

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Let monuments of triumph then be shown,
For two unhappy nymphs by you undone.
When first our vows were to Eleusis paid,
Would I had in a Cretan grave been laid:
'Twas there thou didst a perfect conquest gain,
Whilst love's fierce fever rag'd in ev'ry vein;
White was thy robe, a garland deck'd thy head:
A modest blush thy comely face o'erspread,
That face which may be terrible in arms,

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But graceful seem'd to me, and full of charms: 75
I love the man whose fashion's least his care,
And hate my sex's coxcombs fine and fair;
For whilst thus plain thy careless locks let fly,
Th' unpolish'd form is beauty in my eye.
If thou but ride, or shake the trembling dart,
I fix my eyes, and wonder at thy art:

To see thee poise the jav'lin, moves delight,
And all thou dost is lovely in my sight:
But to the woods thy cruelty resign,
Nor treat it with so poor a life as mine:
Must cold Diana be ador'd alone

;

Must she have all thy vows, and Venus none?
That pleasure palls if 'tis enjoy'd too long;
Love makes the weary firm, the feeble strong.
For Cynthia's sake unbend and case thy bow;
Else to thy arm 'twill weak and useless grow.
Famous was Cephalus in wood and plain,
And by him many a boar and pard was slain;

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Yet to Aurora's love he did incline,

Who wisely left old age, for youth like thine.
Under the spreading shades her am'rous boy,
The fair Adonis, Venus could enjoy :
Atlanta's love too Meleager sought,

And to her, tribute paid of all he caught:

Be thou and I the next blest Sylvan pair :

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Where love's a stranger, woods but deserts are.
With thee, thro' dang'rous ways unknown before,
I'll rove, and fearless face the dreadful boar.
Between two seas a little Isthmus lies,
Where on each side the beating billows rise,
There in Trozena I thy love will meet,

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More bless'd and pleas'd than in my native Crete.
As we could wish, old Theseus is away
At Thessaly, where always let him stay
With his Pirithous, whom well I see
Preferr'd above Hippolytus or me.
Nor has he only thus exprest his hate;

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We both have suffer'd wrongs of mighty weight:
My brother first he cruelly did slay,
Then from my sister falsly run away;
And left expos'd to every beast a prey:
A warlike queen to thee thy being gave,
A mother worthy of a son so brave,

From cruel Theseus yet her death did find,

}

Nor tho' she gave him thee, could make him kind,

Volume II.

E

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So may the water-nymphs in heat of day,

Though thou their sex despise, thy thirst allay. 175 Millions of tears to these my prayers I join,

Which as thou read'st with those dear eyes of thine, Think that thou seest the streams that flow from

mine.

DIDO TO ENEAS.

BY MR. DRYDEN.

Argument.

ANEAS, the son of Venus andAnchises, having at the destruction of Troy, saved his goda, his father and son Ascanius from the fire, put to sea with twenty sail of ships, and having been long tost with tempests, was at last cast upon the shore of Lybia, where queen Dido (flying from the cruelty of Pygmalion her brother, who had kill'd her husband Sichæus) had lately built Carthage. She entertained Æneas and his fleet with great civility, fell passionately in love with him, and in the end denied him not the last favours. But Mercury admonishing Æneas to go in search of Italy, (a kingdom promis'd him by the gods) he rea dily prepared to obey him. Dido soon perceived it, and having in vain tried all other means to engage him to stay, at last in despair writes to him as follows.

So on Mæander's banks, when death is nigh,
The mournful swan sings her own elegy.
Not that I hope, (for oh, that hope were vain!)
By words your lost affection to regain;
But having lost whate'er was worth my care,
Why should I fear to lose a dying pray'r ?
'Tis then resolv'd poor Dido must be left,
Of life, of honour, and of love bereft !

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