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ORIGIN OF SONG-WRITING.
He loiter'd in Arcadian bowers,
And hid his bow in wreaths of flowers;
Or pierc'd ſome fond unguarded heart,
With now and then a random dart;
But heroes ſcorn'd the idle boy,
And love was but a ſhepherd's toy:
When Venus, vex'd to ſee her child
Amid the foreſts thus run wild,
Would point him out ſome nobler game,
Gods, and godlike men to tame.
She ſeiz'd the boy's reluctant hand,
And led him to the virgin band,
Where the ſiſter Muſes round
Swell the deep majeſtic ſound;
And in ſolemn ſtrains unite,
Breathing chaſte, ſevere delight:
Songs of chiefs, and heroes old,
In unſubmitting virtue bold;
Of
