He told his woes, where'er the maid he found,
And still he press'd, yet still Caissa frown'd;
But ev'n her frowns (ah, what might smiles have done!)
Fir'd all his soul, and all his senses won.
He left his car, by raging tigers drawn,
And lonely wander'd o'er the dusky lawn;
Then lay desponding near a murmuring stream,
And fair Caïssa was his plaintive theme.
A naiad heard him from her mossy bed,
And through the crystal rais'd her placid head;
Then mildly spake: "O thou, whom love inspires,
Thy tears will nourish, not allay thy fires.
The smiling blossoms drink the pearly dew;
And ripening fruit the feather'd race pursue;
The scaly shoals devour the silken weeds;
Love on our sighs, and on our sorrow feeds.
Then weep no more; but, ere thou canst obtain
Balm to thy wounds, and solace to thy pain,
With gentle art thy martial look beguile;
Be mild, and teach thy rugged brow to smile.
Canst thou no play, no soothing game devise;
To make thee lovely in the damsel's eyes?
So may thy prayers assuage the scornful dame,
And ev'n Caïssa own a mutual frame."
Page:Poems, Consisting Chiefly of Translations from the Asiatick Languages.djvu/155
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