On which reclin'd a youth of graceful mien,
His dandals purple, and his mantle green;
His locks in ringlets o'er his shoulders roll'd,
And on his cheek appear'd the downy gold.
Around him stood a train of smiling boys,
Sporting with idle cheer and mirthful toys;
[1]Ten comely striplings, girt with spangled wings,
Blew piercing flutes, or touch'd the quivering strings;
Ten more, in cadence to the sprightly strain,
Wak'd with their golden oars the slumbering main:
The waters yielded to their guiltless blows,
And the green billows sparkled as they rose.
Long time the barge had danc'd along the deep,
And on its glassy bosom seem'd to sleep;
[2]But now a glittering isle arose in view,
Bounded with hillocks of a verdant hue:
Fresh groves and roseate bowers appear'd above,
(Fit haunts, be sure, of pleasure and of love)
And higher still a thoufand blazing spires
Seem'd with gilt tops to threat the heavenly fires.
Now each fair stripling plied his labouring oar,
And straight the pinnace struck the sandy shore.
The
