ODE VII.
35
But Love dissolves the nerve of thought;
By Love unmanly fears are taught;
And Love's reward with slothful arts is bought.
True, where the Muses, where the pow'rs
Of softer wisdom, easier wit,
Assist the Graces and the Hours
To render beauty's praise compleat,
The fair may then perhaps impart
Each finer sense, each winning art,
And more than schools adorn the manly heart.
If then, from Love's deceit secure,
Such bliss be all thy heart intends,
Go, where the white-wing'd evening hour
On Delia's vernal walk descends:
Go, while the pleasing, peaceful scene
Becomes her voice, becomes her mien,
Sweet as her smiles, and as her brow serene.
E 2
Attend
