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Thus Hero spake, as speaks the maid, who loves.
Leander saw, through stern resentment's mask,
A fondness ill-conceal'd, in Hero's eyes
He saw the yielding heart, for most the maid
Deals the dissembling threat, when most she means
To prove affection; on her fragrant neck
That boasts unrival'd charms, he prints the kiss
Innum'rous, and his mind's fierce anguish vents
In all the ecstasy of love———'My Fair,
'Not second ev'n to Venus, thine the grace
'Minerva's form might envy, thine the birth
'Above this nether sphere, the thund'ring Jove
'Boasts not a lovelier offspring; bless'd the Sire,
'Bless'd be the Mother, who those spotless charms
'Gave to the light, for ever bless'd the womb
'That nurs'd thee; hear, oh! hear a Lover's vows,
'Let not despair be mine, but Pity's smile
'Beam comfort on my wishes; say shall love
'Be stranger to thy heart, the Priestess thou
'Of Cytherea's altar? At the shrine
'Light, light the nuptial torch, the Cyprian fane
'Claims not a Virgin vot'ry, Queen of Love,
'Not such engage thee; would my Hero know
'Her Venus' sestal rites, those orgies most
'Are
