BENEATH the wood there was a secret grot, Where lovers, when they pleased, concealment got, A quiet, gloomy, solitary place, Designed by nature for the billing race. ONE day, as through the grove a walk they sought, The god of love our couple thither brought; His wishes, Hispal, as they went along, Explained im part by words direct and strong; The rest his sighs expressed, (they spoke the soul;)-- The princess, trembling, listened to the whole. SAID he, we now are in a place retired, Unknown to man, (such spots how oft desired!) Let's take advantage of the present hour: No joys, but those of LOVE, are in our pow'r; All others see withdrawn! and no one knows We even live; perhaps both friends and foes Believe us in the belly of a whale; Allow me, lovely princess, to prevail; Bestow your kindness, or, without delay, Those charms to Mamolin let me convey. Yet, why go thither?--happy you could make The man, whose constancy no perils shake, What would you more?--his passion's ardent grown; And surely you've enough resistance shown. SUCH tender elocution Hispal used, That e'en to marble, 'Twould have warmth infused; While fair Alaciel, on the bark of trees, With bodkin wrote, apparently at ease. But Cupid drew her thoughts to higher things, Than merely graving what from fancy springs. Her lover and the place, at once assured, That such a secret would be well secured; A tempting bait, which made her, with regret, Resist the witching charm that her beset. UNLUCKILY, 'twas then the month of May, When youthful hearts are often led astray, And soft desire can scarcely be concealed, But presses through the pores to be revealed. How many do we see, by slow degrees, And, step by step, accord their ALL to please, Who, at the onset, never dreamed to grant The smallest favour to their fond gallant. The god of love so archly acts his part, And, in unguarded moments, melts the heart, That many belles have tumbled in the snare, Who, how it happened, scarcely could declare.