When love's fair goddess, anxious for her son, (New tumults rising, and new wars begun,) Couched with her husband in his golden bed, With these alluring words invokes his aid-- And, that her pleasing speech his mind may move, Inspires each accent with the charms of love:-- "While cruel fate conspired with Grecian powers, To level with the ground the Trojan towers, I asked not aid the unhappy to restore, Nor did the succour of thy skill implore; Nor urged the labours of my lord in vain, A sinking empire longer to sustain, Though much I owed to Priam's house, and more The danger of Æneas did deplore. But now, by Jove's command, and fate's decree, His race is doomed to reign in Italy; With humble suit I beg thy needful art, O still propitious power, that rul'st my heart! A mother kneels a suppliant for her son. By Thetis and Aurora thou wert won To forge impenetrable shields, and grace With fated arms a less illustrious race. Behold, what haughty nations are combined Against the reliques of the Phrygian kind, With fire and sword my people to destroy, And conquer Venus twice, in conquering Troy." She said; and strait her arms, of snowy hue, About her unresolving husband threw. Her soft embraces soon infuse desire; } His bones and marrow sudden warmth inspire; } And all the godhead feels the wonted fire. } Not half so swift the rattling thunder flies, Or forky lightnings flash along the skies. The goddess, proud of her successful wiles, And conscious of her form, in secret smiles. Then thus the power, obnoxious to her charms, Panting, and half dissolving in her arms:-- "Why seek you reasons for a cause so just, Or your own beauties or my love distrust? Long since, had you required my helpful hand, The artificer and art you might command, To labour arms for Troy: nor Jove, nor Fate, Confined their empire to so short a date. And, if you now desire new wars to wage, My skill I promise, and my pains engage. Whatever melting metals can conspire, Or breathing bellows, or the forming fire, Is freely yours: your anxious fears remove, And think no task is difficult to love." Trembling he spoke; and, eager of her charms, He snatched the willing goddess to his arms; Till, in her lap infused, he lay possessed Of full desire, and sunk to pleasing rest. Now when the night her middle race had rode, And his first slumber had refreshed the god-- The time when early housewives leave the bed; When living embers on the hearth they spread, Supply the lamp, and call the maids to rise;-- With yawning mouths, and with half-opened eyes, They ply the distaff by the winking light, And to their daily labour add the night: Thus frugally they earn their children's bread, And uncorrupted keep their nuptial bed--