Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 2) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/74

Thy Lover (gentle Caunus) wishes thee
That Health, which thou alone canst give to me.
O charming Youth, the Gift I ask bestow,
E'er thou the Name of the fond Writer know;
To thee without a Name I would be known,
Since knowing that, my Frailty I must own.
Yet why shou'd I my wretched Name conceal?
When thousand Instances my Flames reveal:
Wan Looks, and weeping Eyes have spoke my Pain,
And Sighs discharg'd from my heav'd Heart in vain;
Had I not wish'd my Passion might be seen,
What cou'd such Fondness and Embraces mean?
Such Kisses too! (Oh heedless lovely Boy)
Without a Crime no Sister cou'd enjoy:
Yet (tho' extreamest Rage has rack'd my Soul,
And raging Fires in my parch'd Bosom roul)
Be Witness, Gods! how piously I strove,
To rid my Thoughts of this enchanting Love.
But who cou'd scape so fierce, and sure a Dart,
Aim'd at a tender, and defenceless Heart?
Alas! what Maid cou'd suffer I have born,
E're the dire Secret from my Breast was torn;
To thee a helpless vanquish'd Wretch I come,
'Tis you alone can save, or give my Doom;
My Life, or Death this Moment you may chuse,
Yet think, Oh think, no hated Stranger sues,
No Foe; but one, alas! too near ally'd,
And wishing still much nearer to be ty'd.
The Forms of Decency let Age debate,
And Virtue's Rules by their cold Morals state;
Their ebbing Joys give Leisure to enquire,
And blame those noble Flights our Youth inspire;
Where Nature kindly summons let us go,
Our sprightly Years no Bounds in Love shou'd know,
Shou'd feel no Check of Guilt, and fear no Ill;
Lovers, and Gods act all things at their Will:

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