And justify their author's want of sense. To lard with wit thy hungry Epsom prose. And when false flowers of rhetoric thou wouldst cull, 165 Trust nature; do not labor to be dull; He shunned the vengeance and concealed the shame, Her house not ancient, whatsoe'er pretence Her clergy heralds make in her defence; A second century not half-way run, So lurked in sects unseen. With greater Since the new honors of her blood be guile The Panther, sure the noblest next the And fairest creature of the spotted kind; Oh, could her inborn stains be washed away, She were too good to be a beast of prey! 330 How can I praise or blame, and not offend, Or how divide the frailty from the friend? Her faults and virtues lie so mixed, that she Nor wholly stands condemned, nor wholly free. Then, like her injured Lion, let me speak; He cannot bend her and he would not break. 336 Unkind already, and estranged in part, The Wolf begins to share her wandering heart. Though unpolluted yet with actual ill, She half commits who sins but in her will. 340 From harmony, from heavenly harmony, The double, double, double beat Of the thundering drum Cries: "Hark! the foes come; Charge, charge, 'tis too late to retreat!" The soft complaining flute 25 30 35 In dying notes discovers The woes of hopeless lovers, Whose dirge is whispered by the warbling lute. CHORUS Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. Timotheus, placed on high Amid the tuneful choir, With flying fingers touched the lyre: The trembling notes ascend the sky, And heavenly joys inspire. 20 25 The song began from Jove, Then round her slender waist he curled, And stamped an image of himself, a sovereign of the world. The listening crowd admire the lofty sound, "A present deity," they shout around; "A present deity," the vaulted roofs rebound: With ravished ears And seems to shake the spheres. CHORUS With ravished ears The monarch hears, Assumes the god, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres. 36 40 45 |