In a ftrong fatyr's rough-hewn form he came
Inftilling love, tranfports the glowing dame,
And lufty twins reward his nervous flame.
Hear how he footh'd the bright Alcmena's love,
Who for Amphitryon took th' impoftor Jove,
And how the God in golden fhow'rs allur'd.
The guarded nymph in brazen walls immur'd.
How, in a fwain, Mnemofyne he charms,
In lambent flames the fair Ægina warms:
And how with various glitt'ring hues inlaid
In ferpent's form Deöis he betray'd.

Here you, great Neptune, with a short-liv'd flame
In a young bull enjoy'd th' Æolian dame.
Then in Enipeus' fhape intrigues pursue,
"Tis thus th' Aloids boaft defcent from you.
Here to Bifaltis you your love convey'd,
And as a ram deceiv'd the yielding maid.

Ceres, kind mother of the bounteous year,
Whofe golden locks a fheafy garland bear;
And the dread dame, whofe head's with ferpents hung,
From whom the Pegasaan courfer sprung,

Thee in a fnuffing ftallion's form enjoy,

Exhauft thy ftrength, and ev'ry nerve employ;

Melantho,

Melantho as a dolphin you betray,

And sport in pleasures on the rolling fea:
Such juft proportion graces ev'ry part,
Nature her felf appears improv'd by art.
Here in difguife was mighty Phœbus seen
With clownish aspect, and a ruftick mien;
Again transform'd, he's dress'd in faulcon's plumes,
And now the lion's noble shape affumes;

Now, in a fhepherd's form, with treach'rous fmiles
He Macareian Iffe's heart beguiles.

Here his plump shape enamour'd Bacchus leaves,
And in the grape Erigone deceives.

There Saturn, in a neighing horfe, the wove,
And Chiron's double form rewards his love.

Feftoons of flow'rs inwove with ivy shine,

Border the wond'rous piece, and round the texture

twine.

Not Pallas, nor ev'n fpleen it felf could blame,

The fkilful work of the Maonian dame;

With grief her vaft fuccefs the goddess bore,

And of celeftial crimes th' upbraiding hift'ry tore.
Her boxen fhuttle, now enrag'd, she took,
And thrice the proud Idmonian artift ftruck:

Thun

Th' unhappy maid, who found her labours vain,
Grew refolute with pride, and fhame, and pain:
Around her neck a fatal noose she ties,

And in defpair to death for fhelter flies..
Pallas with pity faw the fudden deed,
And thus the virgin's milder fate decreed.

"Live, impious rival, mindful of thy crime,

Sufpended thus to waste thy future time,

"This punishment involves thy num'rous race,
"Who, for thy fault, inherit thy disgrace:
Her incantation magick juices aid,

With which the sprinkles o'er the pendent maid,
And thus the charm its noxious pow'r difplay'd.
Like autumn leaves the fheds her falling hairs,
With thefe, her nofe, and next her rifing ears,
Her head to the minuteft fubftance fhrunk,

And the ftrong juice contracts her changing trunk;
Strait to her fides, her flender fingers clung,

And there, her nimble feet in order hung;

Her bloated belly fwells to larger fize,

Which now with fmalleft threads her work fupplies;
The virgin in the spider ftill remains ;
And in that fhape her former art retains.

An

Where Pope unloads the boughs within his reach,

The purple vine, blue plumb, and blushing peach;

I journey

I journey far. You knew fat bards might tire,

And, mounted, fent me forth your trufty 'fquire.
Twas on the day that city dames repair,

To take their weekly dofe of Hide-Park air;
When forth we trot; no carts the road infeft,
For ftill on Sundays country horses rest.
Thy gardens, Kenfington, we leave unfeen;
Through Hammersmith jog on to Turnham-green;
That Turnham-green, which dainty pidgeons fed,
But feeds no more: for* Solomon is dead.

Three dufty miles reach Brandford's tedious town,
For dirty ftreets and white-legg'd chickens known:
Thence o'er wide fhrubby heaths, and furrow'd lanes,
We come, where Thames divides the meads of Stanes.
We ferry'd o'er; for late the winter's flood
Shook her frail bridge, and tore her piles of wood.
Prepar'd for war, now Bagfhot-heath we cross,
Where broken gamefters oft' repair their loss.
At Hartley-Row the foaming bit we preft,
While the fat landlord welcom'd ev'ry guest.
Supper was ended, healths the glaffes crown'd,
Our hoft extoll'd his wine at ev'ry round,

* A man, lately famous for feeding pidgeons at Turnham-green.

Relates