ODE IV.
21
Ye guardian pow'rs of love and fame,
This chaste, harmonious pair behold;
And thus reward the gen'rous flame
Of all who barter vows for gold.
O bloom of youth and opening charms
Well-buried in a dotard's arms!
O worthy price of beauty sold!
Cease then to gaze, unthankful boy;
Let, let her go, the venal fair!
Unworthy she to give you joy;
Then wherefore should she give you care?
Lay, lay your myrtle garland down,
And let the willow's virgin-crown
With happier omens bind your hair.
O just escap'd the faithless main,
Tho' driven unwilling on the land!
To guid your favour'd steps again,
Behold you better genius stand:
Where Plato's olive courts your eye,
Where Hamden's laurel blooms on high,
He lifts his heav'n-directed hand.
