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Now gath’ring what the bounteous year allows,
He pulls ripe apples from the bending boughs. 40
A soldier now, he with his sword appears ;
A fisher next, his trembling angle bears ;
Each shape he varies, and each art he tries,
On her bright charms to feast his longing eyes.

A female form at last Vertumnus wears, 457
With all the marks of rev'rend age appears, ļ
His temples thinly spread with silver hairs;
Prop'd on his staff, and stooping as he goes,
A painted mitre shades his furrow'd brows.
The god in this decrepit form array'd, 567
The gardens enter'd, and the fruit survey'd ; }
And “Happy you ! (he thus address’d the maid))
“Whosecharms as far all other nymphs out-shine,
“ As other gardens are excell’d by thine !"
Then kiss’d the fair ; (his kisses warmer grow 55
Than such as women on their sex bestow.)
Then plac'd beside her on the flow'ry ground,
Beheld the trees with autumn's bounty crown'd.
An Elm was near, to whose embraces led,
The curling vine her swelling clusters spread: 60
He view'd her twining branches with delight,
And prais’d the beauty of the pleasing sight.

R 2

Haec quoque, quae juncta vitis requiescit in ulmo,
Si non nupta foret, terrae adclinata jaceret.
Tu tamen exemplo non tangeris arboris hujus ;
Concubitusque fugis ; nec te conjungere curas.
Atque utinam velles ! Helene non pluribus esset
Sollicitata procis: nec quae Lapitheïa movit
Proelia, nec conjux timidis audacis Ulyssei.
Nunc quoque, cum fugias averserisque petentes,
Mille proci cupiunt ; et semideique deique, 75
Et quaecunque tenent Albanos numina montes.
Sed tu, si fapies, fi te bene jungere, anumque
Hanc audire voles, (quae te plus omnibus illis, 80
Plus quam credis, amo) vulgares rejice taedas :
Vertumnumque tori socium tibi felige : pro quo
Me quoque pignus habe. neque enim sibi notior

ille est, Quam mihi. nec toto paffim vagus errat in orbe. Haec loca fola colit: nec, uti pars magna procorum,

Yet this tall elm, but for his vine (he said) Had stood neglected, and a barren shade ; And this fair vine, but that her arms surround 65 Her marry'd elin, had crept along the ground. Ah! beauteous maid, let this example move Your mind, averse from all the joys of love. Deign to be lov’d, and ev'ry heart subdue ! What nymph could e’er attract such crouds as you? Not she whose beauty urg'd the Centaur's arms,71 Ulysses' Queen, nor Helen's fatal charms. Ev’n now, when silent Scorn is all they gain, A thousand court you, tho' they court in vain, A thousand fylvans, demigods, and gods, 75 That haunt our mountains and our Alban woods. But if you'll prosper, mark what I advise, Whom age, and long experience render wise, And one whose tender care is far above All that these lovers ever felt of love, (Far more than e'er can by yourself be guest) Fix on Vertumnus, and reject the rest. For his firm faith I dare engage my own; Scarce to himself, himself is better known. To distant lands Vertumnus never roves; 85 Like you, contented with his native groves ;

R 3

80

Quam modo vidit, amat. tu primus et ultimus illi Ardor eris ; solique suos tibi devovet annos. Adde, quod est juvenis : quod naturale decoris 90 Munus habet ; formafque apte fingetur in omnes: Et, quod erit jussus (jubeas licet omnia) fiet. Quid, quod amatis idem ? quod, quae tibi poma

coluntur, Primus habet ; laetaque tenet tua munera dextra ? Sed neque jam foetus defiderat arbore demtos, Nec, quas hortus alit, cum fuccis mitibus herbas ; Necquidquam, nisi te, miserere ardentis: et ipfum, Qui petit, ore meo praefentem crede precari.--Sic tibi nec vernum nafcentia frigus adurat: Poma; nec excutiant rapidi florenţia venti. 119

Nor at first sight, like most, admires the fair ; ) For you he lives ; and you alone shall share His last affection, as his early care. Besides, he's lovely far above the rest, 90 With youth immortal, and with beauty blest. Add, that he varies ev'ry shape with ease, And tries all forms that may Pomona please.. But what should most excite a mutual flame, Your rural cares, and pleasures are the same:95 To him your orchards early fruits are due, (A pleasing off ring when 'tis made by you) He values these; but yet (alas) complains,

That still the best and dearest gift remains. Not the fair fruit that on yon branches glows 100 With that ripe red th’autumnal sun bestows; Nor tasteful herbs that in these gardens rise, Which the kind soil with milky sap supplies ; You, only you, can move the God's desire : Oh crown so constant and so pure a fire! 105 Let soft compassion touch your gentle mind; Think, 'tis Vertumnus begs you to be kind ! ' So may no frost, when early buds appear, Destroy the promise of the youthful year ; 109 Nor winds, when first your forid orchard blows, Shake the light blossoms from their blasted boughs!

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