Page:Odes on several subjects - Akenside (1745).djvu/54

50 But lo, to Author:Sappho mournful airs Descends the radiant Queen of love; She smiles, and asks what fonder cares Her suppliant's plaintive measures move: Why is my faithful maid distrest? Who,, wounds thy tender breast? Say, flies he?Soon he shall pursue: Shuns he thy gifts? too shall give: Slights he thy sorrows? shall grieve, And bend him to thy haughtiest vow.

But, O, for whom Awakes thy golden shell again? What mortal breath shall e'er presume To eccho [sic] that unbounded strain? Majestic in the frown of years, Behold, the Man of Thebes appears: For some there are, whose mighty frame The hand of at birth indow'd With hopes that mock the gazing crowd; As eagles drink the noontide flame, While