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THE

FABLE of THULE,

UNFINISHED.

FAR northward as the Dane extends his sway,Where the sun glances but a sloping ray,Beneath the sharpest rigour of the skies,Disdainful Thule's wintry island lies. 4Unhappy maid! thy tale, forgotten long,Shall virgins learn from my instructive song,And every youth, who lingers in despair,By thy example warn the cruel fair. 8
 In Cyprus, sacred to the queen of love,(Where stands her temple, and her myrtle grove,)Was Thule born, uncertain how: 'tis saidOnce Venus won Adonis to her bed, 12And pregnant grew, the birth to chance assign'dIn woods, and foster'd by the feather'd kind.With flowers some strew the helpless orphan round,With downy moss some spread the carpet ground, 16

Some

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