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26
THE BIRTH OF THE WAR-GOD.

'Twas as the voice of Love to bid the dame
Spurn her cold pride, nor quench the gentle flame.
What though the heat has stained the tints that dyed
With marvellous bloom the Heavenly Minstrel's bride?
Neither her smile nor sunny glances fail,
Bright is her lip, although her cheek be pale.
E'en the pure Hermits owned the secret power
Of warm Spring coming in unwonted hour,
While Love's delightful witchery gently stole
With strong sweet influence o'er the saintly soul.

On came the Archer-God, and at his side
The timid Reti, his own darling bride.
While breathing Nature showed how deep it felt,
'Neath Passion's glowing touch, the senses melt—
For there in eager love the wild bee dipp'd
In the dark flower-cup where his mistress sipp'd;
There with his horn the goat touched lovingly
His gentle mate, who closed her melting eye;
There from her trunk the elephant had poured
A lily-scented stream to cool her lord.
While the fond love-bird by the silver flood
Gave to his hen the tasted Lotus bud.
Full in his song the Minstrel stayed to sip
The heavenlier nectar of his darling's lip—
Pure pearls of heat had just distained the dye.
But flowery wine was sparkling in her eye.
How the young creeper's beauty charmed the view.
Fair as the fairest maid, as playful too!
Here some bright blossoms, lovelier than the rest.
In full round beauty matched her swelling breast;