Look how the mountains with their double range Embrace the vale of Tempe: from each side Ascending steep to heaven, a rocky mound 320 Cover'd with ivy and the laurel boughs That crown'd young Phoebus for the Python slain. Fair Tempe! on whose primrose banks the morn Awoke most fragrant, and the noon reposed In pomp of lights and shadows most sublime: Whose lawns, whose glades, ere human footsteps yet Had traced an entrance, were the hallow'd haunt Of sylvan powers immortal: where they sate Oft in the golden age, the Nymphs and Fauns, Beneath some arbour branching o'er the flood, 330 And leaning round hung on the instructive lips Of hoary Pan, or o'er some open dale Danced in light measures to his sevenfold pipe, While Zephyr's wanton hand along their path Flung showers of painted blossoms, fertile dews, And one perpetual spring. But if our task More lofty rites demand, with all good vows Then let us hasten to the rural haunt Where young Melissa dwells. Nor thou refuse The voice which calls thee from thy loved retreat, 340 But hither, gentle maid, thy footsteps turn: Here, to thy own unquestionable theme, O fair, O graceful, bend thy polish'd brow, Assenting; and the gladness of thy eyes Impart to me, like morning's wished light Seen through the vernal air. By yonder stream, Where beech and elm along the bordering mead Send forth wild melody from every bough, Together let us wander; where the hills Cover'd with fleeces to the lowing vale 350 Reply; where tidings of content and peace Each echo brings. Lo, how the western sun O'er fields and floods, o'er every living soul, Diffuseth glad repose! There,--while I speak Of Beauty's honours, thou, Melissa, thou Shalt hearken, not unconscious, while I tell How first from Heaven she came: how, after all The works of life, the elemental scenes, The hours, the seasons, she had oft explored, At length her favourite mansion and her throne 360 She fix'd in woman's form; what pleasing ties To virtue bind her; what effectual aid They lend each other's power; and how divine Their union, should some unambitious maid, To all the enchantment of the Idalian queen, Add sanctity and wisdom; while my tongue Prolongs the tale, Melissa, thou may'st feign To wonder whence my rapture is inspired; But soon the smile which dawns upon thy lip Shall tell it, and the tenderer bloom o'er all 370 That soft cheek springing to the marble neck, Which bends aside in vain, revealing more What it would thus keep silent, and in vain The sense of praise dissembling. Then my song Great Nature's winning arts, which thus inform With joy and love the rugged breast of man, Should sound in numbers worthy such a theme: While all whose souls have ever felt the force Of those enchanting passions, to my lyre