Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 2) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/81

Extinguish then thy Passion, hopeless Maid,
And recollect thy Reason for thy Aid.
Know what thou art, and love as Maidens ought,
And drive these Golden Wishes from thy Thought.
Thou canst not hope thy fond Desires to gain;
Where Hope is wanting, Wishes are in vain.
And yet no Guards against our Joys conspire;
No jealous Husband hinders our Desire:
My Parents are propitious to my Wish,
And she herself consenting to the Bliss,
All things concur to prosper our Design;
All things to prosper any Love but mine.
And yet I never can enjoy the Fair;
'Tis past the Pow'r of Heav'n to grant my Pray'r.
Heav'n has been kind, as far as Heav'n can be;
Our Parents with our own Desires agree;
But Nature, stronger than the Gods above,
Refuses her Assistance to my Love;
She sets the Bar that causes all my Pain;
One Gift refus'd, makes all their Bounty vain.
And now the happy Day is just at hand,
To bind our Hearts in Hymen's holy Band:
Our Hearts, but not our Bodies: Thus accurs'd,
In midst of Water I complain of Thirst.
Why com'st thou, Juno, to these barren Rites,
To bless a Bed defrauded of Delights?
But why shou'd Hymen lift his Torch on high,
To see two Brides in cold Embraces lye?
Thus Love-sick Iphis her vain Passion mourns;
With equal Ardour fair Ianthe burns,
Invoking Hymen's Name, and Juno's Pow'r,
To speed the Work, and haste the happy Hour.
She hopes, while Telethusa fears the Day,
And strives to interpose some new Delay:
Now feigns a Sickness, now is in a Fright
For this bad Omen, or that boding Sight.