His tale thus closed, from sympathy of grief Palemon’s bosom felt a sweet relief; To mutual friendship thus sincerely true, No secret wish, or fear, their bosoms knew; In mutual hazards oft severely tried, Nor hope, nor danger, could their love divide. Ye tender maids! in whose pathetic souls Compassion’s sacred stream impetuous rolls, Whose warm affections exquisitely feel The secret wound you tremble to reveal; Ah! may no wanderer of the stormy main Pour through your breasts the soft delicious bane; May never fatal tenderness approve The fond effusions of their ardent love: Oh! warned, avoid the path that leads to woe, Where thorns, and baneful weeds, alternate grow: Let them severer stoic nymphs possess, Whose stubborn passions feel no soft distress. Now as the youths returning o’er the plain Approached the lonely margin of the main, First, with attention rouzed, Arion eyed The graceful lover, formed in Nature’s pride: His frame the happiest symmetry displayed, And locks of waving gold his neck arrayed; In every look the Paphian graces shine, Soft breathing o’er his cheek their bloom divine: With lightened heart he smiled serenely gay, Like young Adonis, or the son of May. Not Cytherea from a fairer swain Received her apple on the Trojan plain. IV. The Sun’s bright orb, declining all serene, Now glanced obliquely o’er the woodland scene: Creation smiles around; on every spray The warbling birds exalt their evening lay: Blithe skipping o’er yon hill, the fleecy train Join the deep chorus of the lowing plain; The golden lime, and orange, there were seen On fragrant branches of perpetual green; The crystal streams that velvet meadows lave, To the green ocean roll with chiding wave. The glassy ocean hushed forgets to roar, But trembling murmurs on the sandy shore; And lo! his surface lovely to behold Glows in the west, a sea of living gold! While, all above, a thousand liveries gay The skies with pomp ineffable array. Arabian sweets perfume the happy plains; Above, beneath, around, enchantment reigns! While glowing vesper leads the starry train, And night slow draws her veil o’er land and main, Emerging clouds the azure east invade, And wrap the lucid spheres in gradual shade; While yet the songsters of the vocal grove, With dying numbers tune the soul to love: With joyful eyes th’ attentive master sees Th’ auspicious omens of an eastern breeze. Round the charged bowl the sailors form a ring; By turns recount the wondrous tale, or sing, As love, or battle, hardships of the main, Or genial wine, awake the homely strain: Then some the watch of night alternate keep, The rest lie buried in oblivious sleep. Deep midnight now involves the livid skies,