So when the mother, bending o'er his charms, Clasps her fair nurseling in delighted arms; Throws the thin kerchief from her neck of snow, And half unveils the pearly orbs below;
With sparkling eye the blameless plunderer owns
Her soft embraces, and endearing tones,
Seeks the salubrious fount with opening lips,
Spreads his inquiring hands, and smiles, and sips.
Connubial fair! whom no fond transport warms
To lull your infant in maternal arms;
Who, blest in vain with tumid bosoms, hear
His tender wailings with unfeeling ear;
The soothing kiss and milky rill deny,
To the sweet pouting lip, and glistening eye!—
Ah! what avails the cradle's damask roof,
The eider bolster, and embroidered woof!-
Oft hears the gilded couch unpitied plains,
And many a tear the tassel'd cushion stains!
No voice so sweet attunes his cares to rest,
So soft no pillow as his mother's breast !—
Thus charm'd to sweet repose, when twilight hours
Shed their soft influence on celestial bowers,
The cherub, innocence, with smile divine
Shuts his white wings, and sleeps on beauty's shrine.
THUS when young Hercules, with firm disdain,
Braved the soft smiles of pleasure's harlot train;
To valiant toils his forceful limbs assigned,
And gave to virtue all his mighty mind;
Fierce ACHELOUs rusht from mountain-caves,
O'er sad Etolia pour'd his wasteful waves
O'er lowing vales and bleating pastures rolled,
Swept her red vineyards, and her glebes of gold,
Mined all her towns, uptore her rooted woods,
And famine danced upon the shining floods.
The youthful hero seized his curled crest,
And dasht with lifted club the watery pest;
With waving arm the billowy tumult quelled,
And to his course the bellowing fiend repelled
Then to a snake the finny demon turn'd,
His lengthened form with scales of silver burn'd;
Lasht with resistless sweep his dragon-train,
And shot meandering o'er the affrighted plain.
The hero-god, with giant fingers claspt
Firm round his neck, the hissing monster graspt;
With starting eyes, wide throat, and gaping teeth,
Curl his redundant folds, and writhe in death.
And now a buil, amid the flying throng
The grisly demon foam'd, and roar'd along;
With silver hoofs the flowery meadows spurn'd,
Rolled his read eye, his threatening antlers turn'd;
Dragged down to earth the warrior's victor-hands,
Prest his deep dewlap on the imprinted sands;
Then with quick bound his bended knee he fixt
High on his neck, the branching horns betwixt,
Strain'd his strong arms, his sinewy shoulders bent,
And from his curl'd brow the twisted terror rent.
-Pleased fawns and nymphs with dancing step ap-
plaud,
And hang their chaplets round the resting god;
Link their soft hands, and rear, with pausing toil,
The golden trophy on the furrowed soil;
Fill with ripe fruits, with wreathed flowers adorn,
And give to plenty her prolific horn.
THUS when to kneel in Mecca's awful gloom, Or press with pious kiss MEDINA's tomb, League after league, through many a lingering day, Steer the swart caravans their sultry way; O'er sandy wastes on gasping camels toil, Or print with pilgrim-steps the burning soil; If from lone rocks a sparkling rill descend, O'er the green brink the kneeling nations bend, Bathe the parcht lip, and cool the feverish tongue, And the clear lake reflects the mingled throng.
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