Then kissed the fair; (his kisses warmer grow 55 Than such as women on their sex bestow[7]); Then placed beside her on the flow'ry ground, Beheld the trees with autumn's bounty crowned. An elm was near, to whose embraces led, The curling vine her swelling clusters spread: 60 He viewed her twining branches with delight, And praised the beauty of the pleasing sight. Yet this tall elm, but for his vine (he said) Had stood neglected, and a barren shade; And this fair vine, but that her arms surround 65 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 ev'ry heart subdue! What nymph could e'er attract such crowds as you? 70 Not she whose beauty urged the Centaur's arms,[8] 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, 75 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 guessed) 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; 85 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 blest. Add, that he varies ev'ry 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: 95 To him your orchards' early fruits are due, (A pleasing off'ring 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! 105 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;