Where'er she turns, their eyes, their thoughts pur- Joy touch'd the damsel, though she seem'd dis

Ordain'd by Cupid, greatest God above,
To teach you all the mysteries of love:
As winged Mercury, with golden wand,
Made Hercules, with distaff in his hand,
To every task of Omphale submit;

But anxious doubt his musing breast alarms;
How shall he gain admittance to her charms?
Nor long he paus'd, for Love in wiles abounds,
Well-pleas'd to heal the bosoms which he
wounds:

Thus Love, more powerful than the God of Wit, 'Twas he, whose arrows men and gods control,

Sent me to you. 'Tis needless to relate
The chaste Arcadian Atalanta's fate;
Who from th' embraces of Milanion fled,
Her faithful lover, and the nuptial bed:
But vengeful Venus caus'd the nymph to burn
With equal flame, and languish in her turn.
O let example warn you to revere
The wrathful Goddess, and your lover hear!"
Thus spoke the youth-his magic words con-
trol

Her wavering breast, and soften all her soul.
Silent she stood, and, rapt in thought profound,
Her modest eyes were fix'd upon the ground:
Her cheeks she hid, in rosy blushes drest,
And veil'd her lily shoulders with her vest:
On the rich floor, with Parian marble laid,
Her nimble foot involuntary play'd.

By secret signs a yielding mind is meant;
And silence speaks the willing maid's consent.
Now had the wily God's envenom'd dart
Diffus'd the pleasing poison to her heart;
Leander's form, instilling soft desire,
Woo'd her pleas'd eyes, and set her soul on fire.
While on the ground fair Hero fix'd her sight,
Leander view'd, with exquisite delight,
Her swelling breast, and neck as ivory white.
At length her face with lovely blushes spread
She rais'd, and thus in sweet confusion said:
"Stranger, thy words such magic sounds convey
With soft compassion rocks would melt away.
Who form'd thy tongue with such persuasive art
To pour delightful ruin on the heart?

Ah! tell me, who thus taught thee to explore
My loue retirement on the Thracian shore?
Thy speech, though pleasing, flow'd to me in vain:
How can a stranger Hero's love obtain?
Should I in public give to thee my hand,
My parents would forbid the nuptial band.
And should'st thou here in close concealment stay
Our secret passion would itself betray:

For soon the voice of scandal-spreading fame
The deed of silence would aloud proclaim.
But, gentle youth, thy name, thy country tell;
For mine, alas! by thee are known too well.
In yon high tower, which close to Sestos stands,
And all the roaring Hellespont commands,
With one attending damsel I remain;
For so my parents and the Fates ordain!
No nymphs, coeval, to sweet music's sound
Lead the smooth dance, or lightly beat the ground;
But stormy winds eternal discord keep,
And blustering bellow through the boundless
deep."

That heal'd Leander's love-afflicted soul;
Who thus, while sighs upheav'd his anxious

breast,

The nymph with artful eloquence addrest:
"For thee, dear object of my fond desire,
I'll cross the ocean, though it flame with fire:
Nor would I fear the billows' loud alarms,
While every billow bore me to thy arms;
Uncheck'd, undaunted by the boisterous main,
Tempestuous winds should round me roar in vain:
But oft as night her sable pinions spread,

I through the storm would swim to Hero's bed:
For rich Abydos is the home I boast,
Not far divided from the Thracian coast.
Let but my fair a kindly torch display,
From the high turret, to direct my way;
Then shall thy daring swain securely glide,
The bark of Cupid, o'er the yielding tide,
Thyself my haven, and thy torch my guide:
And while I view the genial blaze afar,
I'll swim regardless of Boötes' car,
Of fell Orion, and the Northern Wain
That never bathes his brightness in the main:
Thy Star, more eminently bright than they,
Shall lead the lover to his blissful bay.
But let the torch, O nymph divinely fair!
My only safety, be thy only care;
Guard well its light, when wintry tempests roar,
And hoarse waves break tumultuous on the shore,
Lest the dire storms, that blacken all the sky,
The flame extinguish, and the lover die.
More would'st thou know? Leander is my name,
The happiest husband of the fairest dame."

Thus mutual vow'd the lovers to employ
The nights in raptures of mysterious joy;
Her task, secure th' extended torch to keep,
And his, to cross th' unfathomable deep:
Leander, ere he left his lovely bride,
Mark'd well the station of the blazing guide,
Then sought Abydos cross the sounding tide.
What now but amorous scenes their thoughts
employ,

Confus'd ideas of the genial joy?

Slow rose on leaden wings the morning light,
Slow noon came on-the lovers wish'd it night.
At length dark gloom a dusky mantle spread;
Sleep o'er the world his balmy influence shed.
All but Leander lay dissolv'd in rest,
Love kept a ceaseless vigil in his breast.
Silent he wander'd on the winding shore,
The deep resounded with tremendous roar:
Wide o'er the foaming waves his anxious sight
Explor'd the torch's love-proclaiming light:

Thus spoke the priestess, and, with modest. He little deem'd, alas! its flame would prove

grace,

Conceal'd the new-born beauties of her face;
For on her cheeks the roseate blush that hung
Seem'd to condemn the language of her tongue.
Meanwhile Leander feeds the hidden fire,
Glows in each vein, and burns with fierce desire:

The blaze of Death, though meant the torch of
Love.

Soon as fair Hero from her tower survey'd
Th' horizon darken'd in the sable shade,
The torch on high she fix'd; its flames inspire
Leander's bosom with the kindred fire:

Quick through his frame the bright contagion ran, And with the glowing signal glow'd th' enamour'd man.

But when he heard the hoarse-resounding roar
Of thundering billows breaking on the shore,
Aghast he stood, he shrunk, and thus addrest
These words of courage to his trembling breast:
"Ah cruel Love! whose woe the waves con-
spire!

The waves are water, but I burn with fire:
Be bold my heart, the foaming billows brave,
Nor fear the threat'nings of the wintry wave.
Fair Venus rose propitious from the main;
She calms the ocean's rage, and soothes the lover's
pain."

He spoke, and straight his lovely limbs undrest,
And folded round his head the various vest;
Then dauntless plunging in the foaming tide,
Dash'd with his arms th' intruding waves aside:
Full in his view he kept the shining mark,
Himself the pilot, passenger, and bark.
While faithful Hero, to her promise true,
Watch'd on the turret every wind that blew;
Oft with her robe she screen'd the torch's blaze
From dangerous blasts that blew a thousand

ways:

Till the tir'd youth, on rolling surges tost,
Securely landed on the Sestian coast.
Soon as she saw her lover safe on shore,
Eager she ran, and led him to her tower,
Welcom'd with open arms her panting guest,
And, sweetly smiling, to her bosom prest:

Beneath the covert of the night conceal'd,
They tasted pleasures mutual faith had seal'd:
In close embraces all entranc'd they lay,
In raptures never usher'd to the day:
Till the fond youth reluctant left his bride,
Still breathing love, and cross'd the foaming tide.
Thus Hero liv'd unnoted, unbetray'd,
Each night a woman, and each day a maid.
Both wish'd the hours on swiftest wings would fly,
And hail'd the evening, not the morning sky.

Thus rapt in hidden joys, each blissful night
They pass'd in ecstasies of full delight:
But soon, alas! those dear-bought pleasures fled,
And short the transports of that bridal bed!
For now relentless winter, that deforms
With frost the forest, and the sea with storms,
Bade the wild winds o'er all the ocean reign,
And raise the rapid whirlpools of the main;
The hoarse wild winds obey, and, with harsh
sound,

Roar o'er the surface of the vast profound,
Rouse from their beds the scatter'd storms that

sleep

In the dark caverns of the dreary deep:
The trembling sailor hears the dreadful roar,
Nor dares the wintry turbulence explore,
But drags his vessel to the safer shore.

But thee, bold youth, no wintry storms restrain,
Nor all the deathful dangers of the main:
For when thou saw'st the torch's blaze from far,
(Of nuptial bliss the bright prophetic star)
Thee not the furious tempest could control,

Then dumb with joy the shivering youth she led, Nor calm the glowing raptures of thy soul.

Still wet and weary, to the genial bed,
Wip'd his fair limbs, and fragrant oils applied,
To cleanse his body from the oozy tide;*
Then clasp'd him close, still panting, to her breast,
And thus with fond, endearing words addrest:

"My life, my lover, thou hast suffer'd more
Than fondest bridegroom e'er endur'd before;
Destin'd, alas! dread troubles to sustain
On the rough bosom of the briny main:
Now let sweet joy succeed in sorrow's place,
And lull thy labours in my warm embrace."
She spoke: He loos'd her virgin zone, to prove
The secret rites, and mysteries of love.
No youths with measur'd dance the nuptials
crown'd,

Nor tuneful hymn's congratulating sound:
No bard invok'd the heavenly queen with prayer,
To smile propitious on the wedded pair:
No nuptial torch its golden lustre shed,
Bright torch of Love, to grace the bridal bed!
No Iö pæans musically rung;
No greeting parents hymenaals sung:
But all was gloom, and silence all around,
Instead of music's love-inspiring sound.

* Thus in the Third Book of the Odyssey, Polycaste, the daughter of Nestor, bathes and anoints Telemachus: Sweet Polycaste took the pleasing toil

To bathe the prince, and pour the fragrant oil. On which Dr. Broome remarks, that the practice of women bathing and anointing men frequently occurs in the Odyssey: neither is this done by women of inferior quality, but we have here a young princess bathing, anointing, and clothing the naked Telemachus.

Yet sure fair Hero, when the gloomy sky
With gathering clouds proclaim'd rough winter
nigh,

Without her lover should have pass'd the night,
Nor from the tower, ill-omen'd, shown the light.
But she, al hapless! burns with fond desire,
"Tis Love inflames her, while the Fates conspire:
The torch of Death now glimmer'd from above,
No more the gentle harbinger of Love.

'Twas night, and angry Æolus had hurl'd
The winds tempestuous o'er the watery world;
The bellowing winds with rage impetuous roar
And dash the foaming billows on the shore:
Ev'n then the youth, with pleasing visions fed,
Glows with remembrance of the bridal bed;
And, while fierce tempests howl on every side,
Floats on the bosom of the briny tide.
Waves, roll'd on waves, in hideous heaps are
driven,

Swell'd into mountains, and upheav'd to heaven:
Bleak blasts, loud-roaring, the vex'd ocean sweep,
Foam the dash'd billows, and resounds the deep.
From every part the blustering terrors fly,
Rage o'er the main, and battle in the sky:
The growling thunder of the vast profound
The rocks rebellow, and the shores rebound.
Amidst the watery war, with toils oppress'd
O'erwhelm'd with billows, and in gulfs dis-
Leander oft with suppliant prayer implor'd
tress'd,
The sea-sprung Goddess, and old Ocean's Lord:
But prayers are fruitless, and petitions vain;
Love must submit to what the Fates ordain.

AGATHIAS.

[About 550 A. D.]

A NATIVE of Æolis, in Asia Minor; known to us as a collector and writer of epigrams, and as the historian to whom we are indebted for six years of the reign of Justinian.

ON A YOUNG BRIDE DROWNED IN THE IN wayward mood by artifice I strove

To love, that swells the longing virgin's breast? ALL night I wept, and when the morning rose