Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 2) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/72

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Ovid's Metamorphoses.
Book 9.

Envy herself ('tis true) must own his Charms,
But what is Beauty in a Sister's Arms?
Oh were I not that despicable she,
How bless'd, how pleas'd, how happy shou'd I be!
But unregarded now must bear my Pain,
And, but in Dreams, my Wishes can obtain.
O Sea-born Goddess! with thy wanton Boy!
Was ever such a charming Scene of Joy?
Such perfect Bliss! such ravishing Delight!
Ne'er hid before in the kind Shades of Night.
How pleas'd my Heart! in what sweet Raptures tost?
Ev'n Life it self in the soft Combat lost,
While breathless he on my heav'd Bosom lay,
And snatch'd the Treasures of my Soul away.
If the bare Fancy so affects my Mind,
How shou'd I rave if to the Substance join'd?
Oh, gentle Caunus! quit thy hated Line,
Or let thy Parents be no longer mine!
Oh that in common all things were enjoy'd,
But those alone who have our Hopes destroy'd.
Were I a Princess, thou an humble Swain,
The proudest Kings shou'd rival thee in vain.
It cannot be, alas! the dreadful Ill
Is fix'd by Fate, and he's my Brother still.
Hear me, ye Gods! I must have Friends in Heav'n,
For Jove himself was to a Sister giv'n:
But what are their Prerogatives above,
To the short Liberties of human Love?
Fantastick Thoughts! down, down, forbidden Fires,
Or instant Death extinguish my Desires.
Strict Virtue, then, with thy malicious Leave,
Without a Crime I may a Kiss receive:
But say shou'd I in spight of Laws comply,
Yet cruel Caunus might himself deny,
No Pity take of an afflicted Maid,
(For Love's sweet Game must be by Couples play'd.)

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