Page:Hero and Leander; a poem (IA heroleanderpoem00musa).pdf/18

 The quiver fraught with flame, ye cannot spare A conquest so alluring—prayers are vain.

Now wak'd the Morn, and led the festal Day Fam'd through the nations, sacred to the loves Of Paphos' Goddess, sacred to thy shade, Adonis, forth collected legions pour To splendid Sestos; from th'extremest verge Edg'd by circumfluous Neptune, burst the hosts Of clust'ring isles; Hæmonia's cloud-top'd hills, And Cyprus' flow'ry vales their youths resign; Ev'n thou, Cythera, view'st thy widow'd groves, No more the seats of Beauty; on the brow Of spicy Libanus no tunes of mirth Rouse to the genial dance; the Phrygian swain Feels the warm impulse, and Abydos' shore Exhausts her social numbers; not a youth, Lesson'd in Cupid's school, brooks absence; they, Urg'd by report, fly panting to the scenes Of gay festivity; not to the Gods The solemn reverence, other altars court, Their shrine is Beauty, their devotion, Love.