Page:Pastorals Epistles Odes (1748).djvu/128

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THULE.
Like wood-land flowers, which paint the desert glades,And waste their sweets in unfrequented shades. 40No human face she saw, and rarely seenBy human face: a solitary queenShe rul'd, and rang'd, her shady empire round.No horn the silent huntress bears; no hound, 44With noisy cry, disturbs her solemn chace,Swift, as the bounding stag, she wings her pace;And, bend when-e'er she will her ebon bow,A speedy death arrests the flying foe. 48The bow the hunting goddess first supply'd,And ivory quiver cross her shoulders ty'd.
 The imperious queen of heaven, with jealous eyes,Beholds the blooming virgin from the skies, 52At once admires, and dreads, her growing charms,And sees the god already in her arms:In vain, she finds, her bitter tongue reprovesHis broken vows, and his clandestine loves: 56Jove still continues frail: and all in vainDoes Thule, in obscurest shades remain,While Maja's son, the thunderer's winged spy,Informs him where the lurking beauties ly. 60

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