Page:Hero and Leander - Marlowe and Chapman (1821).pdf/100

Her breath, as fragrant as the morning rose;
Her mind pure, and her tongue untaught to glose:
Yet proud she was, for lofty Pride that dwells
In tow'red courts, is oft in shepherds' cells;
And too, too well the fair vermillion knew,
And silver tincture of her cheeks, that drew
The love of every swain: on her this god
Enamour'd was, and with his snaky rod
Did charm her nimble feet, and made her stay,
The while upon a hillock down he lay
And sweetly on his pipe began to play,
And with smooth speech her fancy to assay,
Till in his twining arms he lock'd her fast,
And then he woo'd with kisses, and at last,
As shepherds do, her on the ground he laid
And tumbling on the grass, he often stray'd
Beyond the bounds of shame, in being bold
To eye those parts, which no eye should behold:
And like an insolent commanding lover,
Boasting his parentage, would needs discover
The way to new Elisium: but she,
Whose only dower was her chastity,
Having striv'n in vain, was now about to cry,
And crave the help of shepherds that were nigh.