Ovid's epistles translated by several hands.

HERO's ANSWER TO LEANDER.

BY The Same Hand.

WIth such delight I read your Letter o're, Your Presence only could have giv'n me more. Excuse my Passion if it soar above Your thought; no Man can judge of Womans love. With Bus'ness you, or Pleasures may sustain The Pangs of Absence, and divert the Pain.

The Hills, the Vales, the Woods, and streams are stor'd With Game, and Profit with Delight afford. Whilst Gins for Beasts, & Snares for Fowl you set, You smile, and your own amorous Chains forget. Ten thousand helps besides effect your Cure, Whilst Womens sole Relief is to endure. Or, with my Confident I hold discourse, Debating what should interrupt your Course: Or viewing from aloft the troubled Tide, Mix in the Fray, and with the Tempest chide▪ Or in the Storms least Interval suspect Your stay, and almost charge you with neglect. I seek your footsteps on the Sands in vain, The Sands no more confess thee than the Main. I watch th' arriving Barks, and never fail T'enquire of you, and write by every Sail.

Still as the setting Sun restores the Night, (The Light to me more welcom than▪ the Night,) I fix my flaming Torch to guide my Love, Nor shines there any friendlier Star above. Then with my Work or Book the time I cheat, And 'midst the Task Leander's Name repeat. My wedded Thoughts no other Theme pursue, I talk a hundred things—but all of you. What think'st thou, Nurse, does my Leander come? Or waits he till his Parents sleep at home? For he is forc't to steal his Passage there, As nightly we by stealth admit him here. Think'st Thou that now he strips him in the Bay, Or is already plung'd, and on his way? Whilst she poor Soul with tedious watching spent, Makes half Replies, and Nodding gives Assent. Yet cannot I the smallest pause allow, But cry, he is launch't forth for ••ertain now.

Then ev'ry Moment through the Window peep, With greedy Eyes examin all the Deep; And whisper to the Floods a tender Prayer In your behalf, as if I 'spy'd you there. Or to beguile my Griefs my Ear incline, And take each gentle Breezes Voice for Thine: At last surpriz'd with sleep in Dreams I gain That Bliss for which I wak't so long in vain. To shroud you then my shoulders I divest, And clasp you shivering to my warmer Breast; A Lover need not be inform'd the Rest. These Pleasures oft my slumb'ring thoughts im∣ploy, But still th'are Dreams, and yield no solid Joy. Tho' ne're so lively the fruition be, To fill my Bliss I must have very Thee. At present I confess the Seas are rough, But were last Night compos'd, and calm enough▪

Why did you then my longing hopes delay? Why disappoint me with a total stay? Is it your Fear that makes my Wishes vain? When rougher, you have oft engag'd the Main; If it be Fear, that friendly Fear retain. Nor visit me till you securely may; Your danger would afflict me more than stay. Dread every Gust that blows, But oh! my Mind Misgives, least you prove various as that Wind. If e're you change, your Error secret keep, And in blest Ignorance permit me sleep. Not that I am inform'd y'are chang'd at all, But absent Lovers fear what e're may fall. Detain'd by th' Floods, your stay I will not blame; But less I dread the Floods than some new Flame. Be husht ye Winds, ye raging Billows sleep, And yield my Love safe passage through the deep.

Blest sign, the Taper sparkles whilst I pray, A Guest i'th' Flame! Leander's on his way! Our Houshold Altar yields propitious signs, From which my Nurse your swift approach di∣vines. The Crickets too of your arrival warn, And say our number shall increase e're Morn. Come gentle Youth, and with thy presence make, The glad Conjecture true; the Day will break, And marr our bliss, prevent the hastning Morn; To me and Loves forsaken Joys return. My Bed without Thee will afford no Rest, There is no Pillow like Leander's Breast. Dost thou suspect the time will be too short? Or want'st thou strength th'adventure to support? If this detain thee, Oh! no longer stay, I'le plunge and meet Thee in the Flood half way. Thus in the verdant Waves our Flames shall meet, And danger make the soft Embrace more sweet.

Our Love's our own, which yet we take by stealth, Like Midnight Misers from their hidden Wealth. 'Twixt Decency, and Love unhappy made, Whilst Fame forbids what our Desires perswade. How art Thou nightly snatch't from me away? To dare the Flood when Saylers keep the Bay. Yet be advis'd thou Conqueror of the Tide, Nor in thy youthful Strength so much conside. Think not thine Arms can more than Oars pre∣vail Nor dare to Swim when Pilots fear to Sail. With much Regret I cautiously perswade, And almost wish my Counsel disobey'd. Yet when to the rough Main my Eyes I turn, Methinks I never can enough forewarn. Nor does my last Nights Vision less affright, (Tho' expiated with many a Sacred Rite,) A sporting Dolphin, whilst the Flood retir'd, Lay hid i'th' Ooze, and on the Beach expir'd.

What er'e the Dream portend, as yet reside In the safe Port, nor trust th' inconstant Tide. The Storm (too fierce to last) will soon decay, Then with redoubled speed redeem your stay. Till then, these sheets some pleasure may impart, They bring what most you prize, your Hero's heart.