But Love does more: for Love what pow'r can bound? A charm invincible he calls around, Their tender boughs enchanted myrtles spread, Rise thro' the earth and wave their taper head: 210 Deluded mortals seek the tempting shades, The secret charm their languid sense invades, Around, a stream in lulling manner flows, Of deep forgetfulness, of soft repose; Bound in the chain no more they seek to move; 215 Fame, honor, duty, what are you to Love? Here all alike the sweet delusion share, And breathe delicious poison with the air. All whispers love, the birds on ev'ry spray Prolong the kiss, and swell the am'rous lay; 220 The hardy swain, who with the peep of dawn, Jocund and careless sought the russet lawn, Heaves as he goes involuntary sighs; Unusual troubles in his breast arise, Beat in his pulse, his loit'ring feet retain; 225 Neglected lye the treasures of the plain: The same soft charm the trembling maid deceives, The herd forgot, the sheaf unbound she leaves. How could d'Etree with such a pow'r contest! A god invincible her soul possest. 230 In vain, alas! that fatal day she strove, With youth, with glory, with her heart and love. In rain a rising voice in Henry's breast, Back to his ranks the love-lost hero prest; A pow'r unseen repell'd the gen'rous thought, 235 His virtue vainly in himself he sought; His soul empassion'd, deaf to honor's call, Could hear but love, d'Etree possess'd it all. Meanwhile his chiefs, impatient on the plain, His absence mourn'd, and sought their king in vain; 240 A thousand dangers for his life appear'd, For Henry's fame what danger could be fear'd? No hope of victory the troops inspir'd, Lost was their ardor when their chief retir'd. Still the good genius of the realm was near, 245 To cheer their courage, to dispel their fear. Summon'd by Lewis, from the realm of light Downward the spirit shap'd his rapid flight, Around this earthly planet cast his eyes, To find below a mortal truly wise. 250 Not in the noisy school, or silent cell Where pray'r, and meagre fast, and study dwell; Amid the tumult of the martial train, With rest and conquest flush'd, on Ivry's plain, Where Calvin's banners to the sky were rear'd, 255 The man he sought, the real sage appear'd: Mornay was he.--Heav'n form'd the man, to show That Reason's light may guide us here below; Plato her voice, and good Aurelius heard, She led the Pagan right, when Christian's err'd.