Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 1.pdf/154

24 To sing thy Praise, wou'd Heav'n my breath prolong, Infusing Spirits worthy such a Song; Not Thracian Orpheus should transcend my Layes, Nor Linus crown'd with never-fading Bayes: Though each his Heav'nly Parent shou'd inspire; The Muse instruct the Voice, and Phœbus tune the Lyre. Shou'd Pan contend in Verse, and thou my Theme, Arcadian Judges shou'd their God condemn. Begin, auspicious Boy, to cast about Thy Infant Eyes, and with a smile, thy Mother single out; Thy Mother well deserves that short delight, The nauseous Qualms of ten long Months and Travel to requite. Then smile; the frowning Infant's Doom is read, No God shall crown the Board, nor Goddess bless the Bed.