At last, when tried, no remedy would do,
The god took snuff, and out the goddess flew.
On a Fan, in which was painted the story of Cephalus and Procris, with this motto, Aura veni.
Come, gentle air, th’Æolian shepherd said,
While Procris panted in the sacred shade;
Come, gentle air, the fairer Delia cries,
While at her feet her swain expiring lies.
Lo! the glad gales do o’er her beauties stray,
Breathe in her lips, and in her bosom play;
In Delia’s hand this toy is faithful found,