'Yet this tall elm, but for this vine,' he said, 'Had stood neglected, and a barren shade; And this fair vine, but that her arms surround Her married elm, had crept along the ground. Ah, beauteous maid! let this example move Your mind, averse from all the joys of love. Deign to be loved, and every heart subdue! What nymph could e'er attract such crowds as you? 70 Not she whose beauty urged the Centaur's arms, Ulysses' queen, nor Helen's fatal charms. Ev'n now, when silent scorn is all they gain, A thousand court you, though they court in vain-- A thousand sylvans, demigods, and gods, That haunt our mountains and our Alban woods. But if you'll prosper, mark what I advise, Whom age and long experience render wise, And one whose tender care is far above All that these lovers ever felt of love, 80 (Far more than e'er can by yourself be guess'd) Fix on Vertumnus, and reject the rest: For his firm faith I dare engage my own: Scarce to himself, himself is better known. To distant lands Vertumnus never roves; Like you, contented with his native groves; Nor at first sight, like most, admires the fair: For you he lives; and you alone shall share His last affection, as his early care. Besides, he's lovely far above the rest, 90 With youth immortal, and with beauty bless'd. Add, that he varies every shape with ease, And tries all forms that may Pomona please. But what should most excite a mutual flame, Your rural cares and pleasures are the same. To him your orchard's early fruits are due; (A pleasing offering when 'tis made by you) He values these; but yet, alas! complains That still the best and dearest gift remains. Not the fair fruit that on yon branches glows 100 With that ripe red th' autumnal sun bestows; Nor tasteful herbs that in these gardens rise, Which the kind soil with milky sap supplies; You, only you, can move the god's desire: Oh crown so constant and so pure a fire! Let soft compassion touch your gentle mind: Think, 'tis Vertumnus begs you to be kind: So may no frost, when early buds appear, Destroy the promise of the youthful year; Nor winds, when first your florid orchard blows, 110 Shake the light blossoms from their blasted boughs!' This, when the various god had urged in vain, He straight assumed his native form again: Such, and so bright an aspect now he bears, As when through clouds th' emerging sun appears, And thence exerting his refulgent ray, Dispels the darkness, and reveals the day. Force he prepared, but check'd the rash design; For when, appearing in a form divine, The nymph surveys him, and beholds the grace 120 Of charming features and a youthful face, In her soft breast consenting passions move, And the warm maid confess'd a mutual love. THE FIRST BOOK OF STATIUS'S THEBAIS. TRANSLATED IN THE YEAR 1703. ARGUMENT.