KISS I.
THE ORIGIN OF KISSES.
When young Ascanius, by the Queen of Love,
Was wafted to Cythera’s lofty grove,
The slumbering boy upon a couch she laid,
A fragrant couch, of new-blown violets made,
The blissful bower with shadowing roses crowned,
And balmy-breathing airs diffused around.
Soon, as she watched, through all her glowing soul
Impassioned thoughts of lost Adonis stole.
How oft, as memory hallowed all his charms,
She longed to clasp the sleeper in her arms!
How oft she said, admiring every grace,
“Such was Adonis! such his lovely face!”
But, fearing lest this fond excess of joy
Might break the slumber of the beauteous boy,
On every rose-bud that around him blowed,
A thousand nectared kisses she bestowed;
And straight each opening bud, which late was white,
Blushed a warm crimson to the astonished sight.
Still in Dione’s breast soft wishes rise,
Soft wishes, vented with soft-whispered sighs.
Thus, by her lips unnumbered roses pressed,
Kisses, unfolding in sweet bloom, confessed;
And, flushed with rapture at each new-born kiss,
She felt her swelling soul o’erwhelmed in bliss.
Now round this orb, soft-floating on the air,
The beauteous goddess speeds her radiant car;
As in gay pomp the harnessed cygnets fly,
Their snow-white pinions glitter through the sky:
And like Triptolemus, whose bounteous hand
Strewed golden plenty o’er the fertile land,
Fair Cytherea, as she flew along,
O’er the vast lap of nature kisses flung;
Pleased from on high she viewed the enchanted ground,
And from her lips thrice fell a magic sound:
He gave to mortals corn on every plain,
But she those sweets which mitigate my pain.
Hail, then, ye kisses! that can best assuage
The pangs of love, and soften all its rage!
Ye balmy kisses! that from roses sprung;
Roses! on which the lips of Venus hung:
Your bard am I; while yet the Aonian shades
Boast their proud verdures and their flowery glades,
While yet a laurel guards the sacred spring,
My fond, impassioned muse of you shall sing;
And Love, enraptured with the Latin name,
With that dear race from which your lineage came,
In Latin strains shall celebrate your praise,
And tell your high descent to future days.
