English

While in these fountains bright Belinda laves,
She adds new virtues to the healing waves:
Thus in Bethseda's pool an angel stood,
Bade the soft waters heal, and bless'd the flood:
But from her eye such bright destruction flies,
In vain they flow; for her the lover dies.

No more let Tagus boast, whose beds unfold
A shining treasure of all-conq'ring gold;
No more the Po, whose wand'ring waters stray
In mazy errors thro' the starry way:
Henceforth these springs superior honours share;
There Venus laves, but my Belinda here.

No great deed will ever be wrought by the Pathans;
Heaven has ordered that petty should be their undertakings.
However much I try to straighten them, they straighten not;
Crooked is the vision of the evil-natured.
No regard have the Yusufzares for Pathan honour;
Get you gone from amongst these disgraced Pathans, Khush-hal.
Go to Bunnoo, and there collect your followers,
And spread fire and clouds of smoke right up to Khush-ab;
Or in retirement in your house give yourself up to devotion;

'Tis just, Aminta , you are paid
For all the cruel Wounds you've made:
The Bee with arrow keen, tho small
Has on your Lip reveng'd us all.

No wonder with their dazzling Light.
Your Eyes deceiv'd the Wand'rer 's Sight,
While, by your Breath inform'd to steer,
Some fragrant Flow'r it fancy'd near.

It rages! but how faint the Smart
To that of my tormented Heart?
O, let me heal the Wound! O, joyn,
Afflicted Nymph , your Lip to mine!

Not by the arms of the Bangash have I been defeated, believe me;
In the fight of Gunbut Heaven it was that fought against me:
It was not the Bangash, or their arms, or numbers;
But it was the incantations of the dogs of Mecca that undid us.
Since they fled to the mountains without fighting,
Great was the injury that many of my bands did me.
That I did not send my best horsemen on in front
Is a thing that gave me great cause for repentance.
That we did not all advance at once and keep together

Ye eyes with love o'erflowing — eyes of blue,
Ye white pearls peeping thro' unfolding buds,
Eyes where earth's azure, and heaven's azure too,
Shine as reflected on the mirrory floods.
From ye — from your own brightness, living schools!
I studied virtue — why did ye impart,
With your instructions, poison to my heart?
Why mingle mischief with your moral rules?
In your first glance the peace-destroyer shot
His mortal arrow thro' me — and it smote
My inmost heart — but yet I murmur not;

Prologues to Plays, and Prefaces to Books,
Without their Help, how awkardly it looks?
Our Cato 's Author, tho' excell'd by no Man,
With Prologue chose to introduce his Roman .
Din Pope harangu'd in such a lofty Strain,
As in Friend Addi . had been counted vain;
The Audience must applaud, or they were short All — —
A pretty Way of getting Fame immortal!

It had Success — — throng'd was the House of Drury ;
Both Factions clap'd with more than civil Fury — —

Cheeks which are colored from the dewy rose;
Lips, whence young smiles go forth and where they rest:
A swan-like neck above a snowy breast,
Where many a golden curl light-waving flows.
A forehead bright as sunshine — hazel brows,
Pencil'd as if by art — their orbits drest
In living light of innocence, — repress'd
Each heaving sigh, and every breath that rose
Half-smother'd — thus it was that I was bound;
Love's thousand, thousand fetters girt me round:
What time he lull'd me with his sweet delusion,

The Father averse, and the Fair One unkind,
'Tis enough, my good Friend, to ruffle thy Mind——
Yet why keep thy Bed, and avoid Conversation?
Gods! are there no Women but her in the Nation?
Rise, pluck up thy Spirits, and finish thy Billet,
With keenest Invectives disdainfully fill it;
Then turn to some other, and be not so froward,
The Second may bend, tho' the First was untoward.

Rise! said the Muse , and bid adieu
To Worldly Thoughts! My Flight pursue!
When once resolv'd to follow me,
Far happier thy Life shall be,
Than his, who, on a peaceful Throne,
Beholds extended Realms his own;
Who boasts of Triumphs , and detains
His trembling Enemies in Chains:
For him shou'd rich Pactolus flow,
No Bliss like thine he e'er shall know.
I'll bear thee on my Wings on high
Thro' the bright Wonders of the Sky,
'Midst Crouds of Worlds , and form thy Ears,

Jove once was young, as Poets hold —
Then consequently Jove grows old;
And Wisdom, as by Man appears,
Increases with a Person's Years;
Then Jove must now be wise indeed!
That Point admitted, we proceed.

Grown old and wise; in nuptial Love,
Some Ages Jove had spent above:
Buils, Swans, and Show'rs, ungrateful Names!
No more promote his lawless Flames:
No Change the Deity desir'd,
Nor much of Men's Affairs enquir'd;
Or ask'd 'em with no other Views
Than mod'rate Mortals read the News: