THE

Joyllia of Moschus,

IDYLLIUM I.

The Strap Cupid.

As Cupid from his mother Venus stray'd,
Thus, crying him aloud, the goddess said-
'If any one a wandering Cupid see,
The little fugitive belongs to me.

And if he tell what path the rogue pursues
My kisses shall reward him for the news:
But if he bring me back the boy I miss,
I'll give him something sweeter than a kiss.
So plain so numerous are his marks, you'll own
That e'en among a score he may be known.
Flame-colour'd is his glowing skin-not white;
Fierce are his eyes, that flash malignant light.
Smooth are his words, his voice as honey sweet,
Yet war is in his heart, and dark deceit!
Provoke him—and his rage all check defies—
Frantic, in other's woe his pastime lies.
Bright clustering locks his lovely forehead grace,
But insolent expression marks his face.
Though little are his hands, those hands can fling
Darts e'en to Acheron, and the' infernal king.
Though bare his body, yet no art can find
A clue to trace the motions of his mind.

As the fleet bird, on airy pinions light,

From men to sighing maids he wings his flight;
Now here, now there, in many a circle strays,
Yet perching, on their vitals inly preys.
Lo! ready from his little bow to fly-

His arrow, swift though slight, can pierce the sky.
A golden quiver on his shoulder glows,
And holds the' imbitter'd darts for friends or foes.
E'en I their frequent wounds would vainly shun,
But his fell torch-its blaze e'en dims the sun!
If you secure the wanderer, bring him bound;
Nor mind him, though he cry and stamp the ground!
And trust him not, though smiling he appears;
Alike deceitful are his smiles and tears.
To kiss you, sweetly laughing, should he try,
Fly him—there's poison in his kisses-fly!
But if he
say: 'How idle your alarms!
Here-take my darts-my arrows-take my

arms!'

[aim

Ah! touch them not-beware the treacherous His darts, his arrows, are all tipp'd with flame.'

IDYLLIUM II.

Europa.

ONCE Venus to Agenor's royal maid
A vision's airy portraiture display'd,

At that calm hour when night and morning meet;
When sleep, than honey's balmy drops more sweet,
Sits on the eyelids, and in tender ties

(Each limb relaxing) binds the cherish'd eyes;