To lead her forth to a distinguish'd bower,
And bid her dress the bed, and wait the hour.

Restless I follow'd this obdurate maid

(Swift are the steps that Love and Anger tread);
Approach'd her person, courted her embrace,
Renew'd my flame, repeated my disgrace;
By turns put on the suppliant and the lord;
Threaten'd this moment, and the next implor'd;
Offer'd again the unaccepted wreath,

And choice of happy love, or instant death.
Averse to all her amorous king desir'd,
Far as she might she decently retir'd;
And, darting scorn and sorrow from her eyes,
"What means," said she, "king Solomon the wise?
"This wretched body trembles at your power:
Thus far could Fortune, but she can no more.
Free to herself my potent mind remains,
Nor fears the victor's rage, nor feels his chains.

" 'Tis said, that thou canst plausibly dispute,
Supreme of seers! of angel, man, and brute;
Canst plead, with subtle wit and fair discourse,
Of passion's folly, and of reason's force;
That, to the tribes attentive, thou canst show
Whence their misfortunes or their blessings flow;
That thou in science as in power art great,
And truth and honour on thy edicts wait.
Where is that knowledge now, that regal thought,
With just advice and timely counsel fraught?
Where now, O Judge of Israel! does it rove?
What in one moment dost thou offer? Love-
Love! why 'tis joy or sorrow, peace or strife;
'Tis all the colour of remaining life:

And human misery must begin or end,
As he becomes a tyrant or a friend.

Would David's son, religious, just, and grave,
To the first bride-bed of the world receive
A foreigner, a heathen, and a slave?

Or, grant thy passion has these names destroy'd,
That Love, like Death, makes all distinction void;
Yet in his empire o'er thy abject breast
His flames and torments only are exprest;
His rage can in my smiles alone relent,
And all his joys solicit my consent.

"Soft love, spontaneous tree, its parted root
Must from two hearts with equal vigour shoot;
Whilst each, delighted and delighting gives
The pleasing ecstacy which each receives :
Cherish'd with hope, and fed with joy it grows;
Its cheerful buds their opening bloom disclose,
And round the happy soil diffusive odour flows,
If angry Fate that mutual care denies,
The fading plant bewails its due supplies;
Wild with despair, or sick with grief, it dies.
"By force beasts act, and are by force restrain'd.
The human mind by gentle means is gain'd.
Thy useless strength, mistaken king, employ :
Sated with rage, and ignorant of joy,

Thou shalt not gain what I deny to yield,

Nor reap the harvest, though thou spoil'st the field.
Know, Solomon, thy poor extent of sway;
Contract thy brow, and Israel shall obey :
But wilful Love thou must with smiles appease,
Approach his awful throne by just degrees,
And, if thou would'st be happy, learn to please.

"Not that those arts can here successful prove,

For I am destin'd to another's love.

Beyond the cruel bounds of thy command,

To my dear equal in my native land,

My plighted vow I gave; I his receiv'd:

Each swore with truth, with pleasure each believ❜d.
The mutual contract was to Heaven convey'd ;
In equal scales the busy angels weigh'd

Its solemn force, and clapp'd their wings, and spread
The lasting roll, recording what we said.

"Now in my heart behold thy poniard stain'd; Take the sad life which I have long disdain'd; End, in a dying virgin's wretched fate, Thy ill-starr'd passion and my stedfast hate : For, long as blood informs these circling veins, Or fleeting breath its latest power retains, Hear me to Egypt's vengeful Gods declare, Hate is my part, be thine, O king, despair. "Now strike," she said, and open'd bare her breast;

"Stand it in Judah's chronicles confest,

That David's son, by impious passion mov'd,
Smote a she-slave, and murder'd what he lov'd!”
Asham'd, confus'd, I started from the bed,
And to my soul, yet uncollected, said,
"Into thyself, fond Solomon, return;

Reflect again, and thou again shalt mourn.

When I through number'd years have Pleasure

sought,

And in vain hope the wanton phantom caught;

To mock my sense, and mortify my pride,

'Tis in another's power, and is deny'd.

Am I a king, great Heaven! does life or death
Hang on the wrath or mercy of my breath;
While kneeling I my servant's smiles implore,
And one mad damsel dares dispute my power?
"To ravish her! that thought was soon depress'd,
Which must debase the monarch to the beast.
To send her back! O whither, and to whom?
To lands where Solomon must never come?
To that insulting rival's happy arms,

For whom, disdaining me, she keeps her charms? "Fantastic tyrant of the amorous heart,

How hard thy yoke! how cruel is thy dart!
Those 'scape thy anger, who refuse thy sway,
And those are punish'd most who most obey.
See Judah's king revere thy greater power:
What canst thou covet, or how triumph more?
Why then, O Love, with an obdurate ear,
Does this proud nymph reject a monarch's prayer?
Why to some simple shepherd does she run
From the fond arms of David's favourite son?
Why flies she from the glories of a court,
Where wealth and pleasure may thy reign support,
To some poor cottage on the mountain's brow,
Now bleak with winds, and cover'd now with snow,
Where pinching want must curb her warm desires,
And household cares suppress thy genial fires?

"Too aptly the afflicted Heathens prove
Thy force, while they erect the shrines of Love.
His mystic form the artizans of Greece
In wounded stone, or molten gold, express;
And Cyprus to his godhead pays her vow,
Fast in his hand the idol holds his bow;

A quiver by his side sustains his store

Of pointed darts; sad emblems of his power:
A pair of wings he has, which he extends

Now to be gone; which now again he bends,

Prone to return, as best may serve his wanton ends.
Entirely thus I find the fiend pourtray'd,
Since first, alas! I saw the beauteous maid:
I felt him strike, and now I see him fly:
Curs'd demon! O! for ever broken lie
Those fatal shafts, by which I inward bleed!
O! can my wishes yet o'ertake thý speed!
Tir'd may'st thou pant, and hang thy flagging wing,
Except thou turn'st thy course, resolv'd to bring
The damsel back, and save the love-sick king!”
My soul thus struggling in the fatal net,
Unable to enjoy, or to forget;

I reason'd much, alas! but more I lov'd:
Sent and recall'd, ordain'd and disapprov'd;
Till, hopeless, plung'd in an abyss of grief,
I from necessity receiv'd relief:

Time gently aided to assuage my pain,

And Wisdom took once more the slacken'd rein.
But O, how short my interval of woe!

Our griefs how swift! our remedies how slow!
Another nymph, (for so did Heaven ordain,
To change the manner, but renew the pain,)
Another nymph, amongst the many fair,
That inade my softer hours their solemn care,
Before the rest affected still to stand,

And watch'd my eye, preventing my command.
Abra, she so was call'd, did soonest haste

To grace my presence; Abra went the last :