TO APOLLO MAKING LOVE,
FROM MONS. FONTENELLE.
I.
"I am," cry'd Apollo, when Daphne he woo'd,
And panting for breath the coy virgin pursu'd,
When his wisdom in manner most ample exprest
The long list of the graces his godship possest; 4
"I am," cry'd Apollo, when Daphne he woo'd,
And panting for breath the coy virgin pursu'd,
When his wisdom in manner most ample exprest
The long list of the graces his godship possest; 4
II.
"I'm the god of sweet song and inspirer of lays;"
Nor for lays nor sweet song the fair fugitive stays:
"I'm the god of the harp—stop, my Fairest!"—in vain;
Nor the harp nor the harper could fetch her again. 8
"I'm the god of sweet song and inspirer of lays;"
Nor for lays nor sweet song the fair fugitive stays:
"I'm the god of the harp—stop, my Fairest!"—in vain;
Nor the harp nor the harper could fetch her again. 8
III.
"Ev'ry plant, ev'ry flow'r, and their virtues, I know;
"God of Light I'm above and of Physick below:"
At the dreadful word Physick the nymph fled more fast;
At the fatal word Physick she doubled her haste. 12
"Ev'ry plant, ev'ry flow'r, and their virtues, I know;
"God of Light I'm above and of Physick below:"
At the dreadful word Physick the nymph fled more fast;
At the fatal word Physick she doubled her haste. 12
IV.
Thou fond god of Wisdom! then alter thy phrase,
Bid her view the young bloom and thy ravishing rays;
Tell her less of thy knowledge and more of thy charms,
And my life for it the damsel will fly to thy arms. 16
Thou fond god of Wisdom! then alter thy phrase,
Bid her view the young bloom and thy ravishing rays;
Tell her less of thy knowledge and more of thy charms,
And my life for it the damsel will fly to thy arms. 16