Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/316

The eager Prince then urg'd him to impart,
The Fortune that attended on the Dart.
First then (said he) past joys let me relate,
For Bliss was the Foundation of my Fate.
No Language can those happy Hours express,
Did from our Nuptials me, and Procris bless:
The kindest Pair! What more cou'd Heav'n confer?
For she was all to me, and I to her.
Had Jove made Love, great Jove had been despis'd;
And I my Procris more than Venus priz'd:
Thus while no other Joy we did aspire,
We grew at last one Soul, and one Desire.
Forth to the Woods I went at Break of Day,
(The constant Practice of my Youth) for Prey:
Nor yet for Servant, Horse, or Dog did call,
I found this single Dart to serve for all.
With Slaughter tir'd, I sought the cooler Shade,
And Winds that from the Mountains pierc'd the Glade:
Come, gentle Air, (so was I wont to say)
Come, gentle Air, sweet Aura come away:
This always was the Burden of my Song,
Come 'swage my Flames, sweet Aura come along.
Thou always art most welcome to my Breast;
I faint; approach, thou dearest, kindest Guest!
These Blandishments, and more than these, I said,
(By Fate to unsuspected Ruin led)
Thou art my Joy, for thy dear sake I love
Each desart Hill, and solitary Grove;
When (faint with Labour) I Refreshment need,
For Cordials on thy fragrant Breath I feed.
At last a wand'ring Swain in hearing came,
And cheated with the Sound of Aura's Name,
He thought I had some Assignation made;
And to my Procris' Ear the News convey'd.
Great Love is soonest with Suspicion fir'd:
She swoon'd, and with the Tale almost expir'd.

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