As round some neighbouring elm the vine
Its am'rous tendrils loves to twine;
As round the oak, in many a maze,
The ivy flings its gadding sprays:
Thus! Let me to your snowy breast,
My dear Naæ ra! Thus to be prest;
While I as fondly in my arms,
Neæ ra! Clasp thy yielding charms;
And, with one long, long kiss, improve
Our mutual ecstasies of love. Should Ceres pour her plenteous hoard,
Should Bacchus crown the festive board,
Should balmy Sleep luxurious spread
His downy pinions o'er my head;
Yet not for these my joys I'd break,
For these! Thy vermil lips forsake.
At length, when ruthless age denies
A longer bliss, and seals our eyes,
One bark shall waft our spirit's o'er,
United, to the Stygian shore:
Then, passing thro' a transient night,
We'll enter soon those fields of light,
Where, breathing richest odours round,
A spring eternal paints the ground;
Where heroes once in valour prov'd,
And beauteous heroines once belov'd,
Again with mutual passion burn,
Feel all their wonted flames return;
And now in sportive measures tread
The flow'ry carpet of the mead;
Now sing the jocund, tuneful tale
Alternate in the myrtle vale:
Where ceaseless Zephyrs fan the glade,
Soft-murm'ring thro' the laurel-shade;
Beneath whose waving foliage grow
The vi'let sweet of purple glow,
The daffodil that breathes perfume,
And roses of immortal bloom;
Where Earth her fruits spontaneous yields,
Nor plough-share cuts th' unfurrow'd fields. Soon as we enter these abodes
Of happy souls, of demi-gods,
The Blest shall all respectful rise,
And view us with admiring eyes;
Shall seat us 'mid th' immortal throng,
Where I, renown'd for tender song,
Shall gain with Homer equal praise,
And share with him poetic bays;
While Thou, enthron'd above the rest,
Wilt shine in beauty's train confest:
Nor shall the Mistresses of Jove
Such partial honours disapprove;
E'en Helen, tho' of race divine,
Will to thy charms her rank resign.