Boreas in Love.
Erechtheus next th' Athenian Sceptre sway'd,
Whose Rule the State with joynt Consent obey'd;
So mix'd his Justice with his Valour flow'd,
His Reign one Scene of Princely Goodness shew'd.
Four hopeful Youths, as many Females bright,
Sprung from his Loyns, and sooth'd him with Delight.
Two of these Sisters, of a lovelier Air,
Excell'd the rest, tho' all the rest were fair.
Procris, to Cephalus in Wedlock ty'd,
Bless'd the young Silvan with a blooming Bride:
For Orithyia Boreas suffer'd Pain,
For the coy Maid sue'd long, but sue'd in vain:
Tereus his Neighbour, and his Thracian Blood,
Against the Match a main Objection stood;
Which made his Vows, and all his suppliant Love,
Empty as Air, and ineffectual prove.
But when he found his soothing Flatt'ries fail,
Nor saw his soft Addresses cou'd avail;
Blust'ring with Ire, he quickly has Recourse
To rougher Arts, and his own native Force.
'Tis well, he said; such Usage is my Due,
When thus disguis'd by foreign ways I sue;
When my stern Airs, and Fierceness I disclaim,
And sigh for Love, ridiculously tame;
When soft Addresses foolishly I try,
Nor my own stronger Remedies apply.
By Force and Violence I chiefly live,
By them the lowring stormy Tempests drive;
In foaming Billows raise the hoary Deep,
Writhe knotted Oaks, and sandy Desarts sweep;
Congeal the falling Flakes of fleecy Snow,
And bruise, with ratling Hail, the Plains below.
