Sent to the Author of the Lady’s Museum, by a Friend.
‘Nobis forma placet; sapientia, regna, valete.’
DAUGHTERS of Jove, immortal Nine, inspire
This artless bosom with celestial fire:
Graces that in the cheeks of Venus shine,
Bloom in my numbers, and inform each line.
So may I challenge the contested bays,
And charm the ear, when beauty claims the lays.
On a green turf reclin’d, lo! Paris lies,
And from his pipe melodious sounds arise:
His music sweetly charms the hours away,
While beauty’s pow’r employs his tuneful lay.
He sung, when wounded by Alcmena’s eyes,
How in a borrow’d form Jove gain’d the prize:
And how, when rifling Leda’s charms, he press’d
(Conceal’d in snowy plumes) her softer breast.
Of Heav’n’s great Lord he sung each fam’d amour,
Of god’s subdu’d by love’s superior pow’r;
The birds are mute, and listen to his song,
Or in soft echo’s his sweet notes prolong.
The wond’ring sheep a while forget to feed,
And stop attentive to his tuneful reed:
The gods too hearken, and his song approve,
But most he charm’d the almighty ear of Jove.
“And now, he said, may all our discords cease,
“Nor female jars disturb celestial peace;
“See there the judge of beauty; now agree,
“Ye lovely rivals, to his just decree.
The heav’nly beauties his command obey
And, conscious of her charms, each wings her way.
The golden ball descends, the destin’d prize,
And each alternate meets his wond’ring eyes.
First Jove’s great queen, with proud commanding air
Graceful, not beautious, draws majestic near.
Respect she gains, but ne’er the heart can move;
All must admire, but none presume to love.
“Do then, she cry’d, these beauties faintly shine?
“And can those childish charms contend with mine?
“To me, presumptous! dare they rivals prove?
“To me? the sister and the wife of Jove!
“If crowns, if pow’r, if titles, honours, praise,
“The regal purple, or the hero’s bays,
“Have charms to move—Behold! I give ’em all:
“All shall await thee for that golden ball.
“And heav’n’s great queen thy every step shall guard;
“Honours shall court thee, kingdoms shall reward.
“Unskill’d you are from what a race you spring,
“That shepherd’s dress perhaps conceals a king.
“‘Tis I must seat thee on thy injur’d throne,
“And make rebellious crouds their monarch own.
“I’ll make each vanquish’d tyrant tribute pay,
“And every nation stoop beneath thy sway.
“But if these offers fail to move thee, dread
“An injur’d queen’s just vengeance on thy head;
“A sure resentment my repulse shall wait,
“My smile is heaven, but my frown is fate.
Thus Juno spoke;—see Pallas next appear:
Pallas with decent steps drew slow’ly near.
“No study’d phrase, she said, my cause requires;
“Wisdom the truth, tho’ unadorn’d, admires;
“Nor shall I venture, like a treach’rous guide,
“The dang’rous turnings of my paths to hide;
“Nor tempt with honours, nor allure with joy;
“Honours will fail, and pleasure soon will cloy.
“Virtue and wisdom, attributes of Heav’n,
“Those sister-beauties, those to me are giv’n:
“Virtue alone, true happiness can give,
“And wisdom only teach us how to live.
“These are my gifts: I also join th’ fight,
“And guide th’ godlike hero’s blows aright.
“I, crown’d with lawrels from successful war,
“Lead him triumphant in th’ gilded car.
“Nor less my beauty, tho’ conceal’d with care;
“Nor, tho’ more manly than my sex, less fair.
“Mine is each wining art, and ev’ry charm,
“That with soft passion can th’ bosom warm.
“Behold these hands! do they to Juno’s yield;
“One waves the weapon, and one grasps the shield.
“And view this face, which gods in vain adore;
“This breast, which none have ever view’d before.
“A weighty breast-plate this soft bosom bears,
“This virgin brow a massy helmet wears.
“Speak shepherd, be in this one suit my friend,
“Thee virtue, valour, wisdom shall attend.
“Th’ admiring gods look down, well pleased to see
“The image of themselves appear in thee.
She spoke, the shepherd doubts; the dubious scales
Hung wav’ring, nor disclose who most prevails.
But when bright Venus drew aside her vail,
The shepherd’s eyes, o’erpow’r’d with beauties fail.
As when Sol, late eclips’d, illumes the skies,
His beams dart pow’rful on the weaken’d eyes.
Our dazzled sight shrinks from the glitt’ring ray,
And droops beneath th’ o’erwhelming tide of day.
The powerful cestus negligently plac’d,
With diamonds buckled round her slender waist.
Her sparkling eyes with killing lustre glow,
And her fair cheeks unbidden beauties show.
Unstudy’d charms her winning motion grace,
And modest nature purpled o’er her face.
Thus in soft music she allures his ear,
“Ah! why that bashful blush, those signs of fear?”
(For now the shepherd felt the tender heat,
And his fond heart irregularly beat;
His quicker pulse, and trembling nerves, confess’d
The rising tumults of his raptur’d breast.)
“Can aught forbidding in these eyes appear?
“Or love inspire th’ ungentle passion, fear?
“Paris, then hear, and oh! if ever love
“Had charms, that could thy tender bosom move,
“Grant me this suit, or henceforth may you find
“Th’ Idalian nymphs, to all your vows unkind.
“Oh! were I skill’d thy list’ning ear to move,
“And sweetly form’d to bend the soul to love,
“Then smiles and winning words the prize might gain,
“Nor others triumph, while I sue in vain:
“Nor yet, if looks the secret soul confess,
“When Paris judges, need I fear success.
“Thine are love’s triumphs, and the nymph who views
“That radiant form, but coldly can refuse.
“Yet in thy breast, perhaps, love never reigns,
“Stranger to all its joys, and all its pains;
“The half-consenting blush, the glance betray’d,
“And the soft whisper of the yielding maid;
“The flame inspiring touch, the melting eyes,
“And the ten thousand tender niceties,
“That lovers only feel — to none is known
“The bliss of madness, but the mad alone.
“But if some happy nymph has found the art
To point her charms aright, and wound thy heart,
“Thy longing eyes shall not in vain adore,
“But she alike shall taste my mighty pow’r.
“I am the queen of love, ’tis I inspire
“The rising sigh, fond thought, and soft desire;
“In the fair cheek bid speaking blushes rise,
“And the kind languish grace the yielding eyes:
“Bid tender wishes warm the virgin’s soul,
“And the fair bosom grant without controul.
“Had only Helen pow’r thy heart to gain,
“E’en Helen’s self should joy to ease your pain.
“Helen! the prize to which ambition soars;
“Helen! whose charms each wishing heart adores,
“Jove’s beauteous daughter shall thy conquest be,
“And lose ev’n crowns and fame — the world for thee!”
The boy transported with a joyful pride
Sprung up, and in a sudden rapture cried,
“O give me, Goddess, charms like thine to view,
“Fame, wisdom, valour, trifling toys, adieu!”