Moves onward; or as Venus, when she stood Effulgent on the pearly car, and smiled, 330 Fresh from the deep, and conscious of her form, To see the Tritons tune their vocal shells, And each cerulean sister of the flood With loud acclaim attend her o'er the waves, To seek the Idalian bower. Ye smiling band Of youths and virgins, who through all the maze Of young desire with rival steps pursue This charm of Beauty, if the pleasing toil Can yield a moment's respite, hither turn Your favourable ear, and trust my words. 340 I do not mean to wake the gloomy form Of Superstition dress'd in Wisdom's garb, To damp your tender hopes; I do not mean To bid the jealous thunderer fire the heavens, Or shapes infernal rend the groaning earth To fright you from your joys: my cheerful song With better omens calls you to the field, Pleased with your generous ardour in the chase, And warm like you. Then tell me, for ye know, Does Beauty ever deign to dwell where health 350 And active use are strangers? Is her charm Confess'd in aught, whose most peculiar ends Are lame and fruitless? Or did Nature mean This pleasing call the herald of a lie, To hide the shame of discord and disease, And catch with fair hypocrisy the heart Of idle faith? Oh, no! with better cares The indulgent mother, conscious how infirm Her offspring tread the paths of good and ill, By this illustrious image, in each kind 360 Still most illustrious where the object holds Its native powers most perfect, she by this Illumes the headstrong impulse of desire, And sanctifies his choice. The generous glebe Whose bosom smiles with verdure, the clear tract Of streams delicious to the thirsty soul, The bloom of nectar'd fruitage ripe to sense, And every charm of animated things, Are only pledges of a state sincere, The integrity and order of their frame, 370 When all is well within, and every end Accomplish'd. Thus was Beauty sent from heaven, The lovely ministries of Truth and Good In this dark world: for Truth and Good are one, And Beauty dwells in them, [Endnote F] and they in her, With like participation. Wherefore then, O sons of earth! would ye dissolve the tie? Oh! wherefore, with a rash impetuous aim, Seek ye those flowery joys with which the hand Of lavish Fancy paints each flattering scene 380 Where Beauty seems to dwell, nor once inquire Where is the sanction of eternal Truth, Or where the seal of undeceitful Good, To save your search from folly! Wanting these, Lo! Beauty withers in your void embrace, And with the glittering of an idiot's toy Did Fancy mock your vows. Nor let the gleam Of youthful hope that shines upon your hearts, Be chill'd or clouded at this awful task, To learn the lore of undeceitful Good, 390 And Truth eternal.