Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/51

 Under those sacred leaves, secure From common lightning of the skies, He fondly thought he might endure The flashes of Ardelia's eyes.

The nymph, who oft had read in books Of that bright god whom bards invoke, Soon knew Apollo by his looks, And guess'd his business ere he spoke.

He, in the old celestial cant, Confess'd his flame, and swore by Styx, Whate'er she would desire, to grant — But wise Ardelia knew his tricks.

Ovid had warn'd her, to beware Of strolling gods, whose usual trade is, Under pretence of taking air, To pick up sublunary ladies.

Howe'er she gave no flat denial, As having malice in her heart; And was resolv'd upon a trial, To cheat the god in his own art.

Hear my request, the virgin said; Let which I please of all the Nine Attend, whene'er I want their aid, Obey my call, and only mine.

By vow oblig'd, by passion led, The god could not refuse her prayer: He wav'd his wreath thrice o'er her head, Thrice mutter'd something to the air.

And now he thought to seize his due; But she the charm already tried: Thalia heard the call, and flew To wait at bright Ardelia's side.