THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, VOL. 8 (Completed)

"WHEN LOVE WAS BORN OF HEAVENLY LINE"

Composed 1795 (or earlier).--Published 1795

Translated from some French stanzas by Francis Wrangham, and Printed in Poems by Francis Wrangham, M.A., Member of Trinity College, Cambridge, London (1795), Sold by J. Mawman, 22 Poultry, pp. 106-111. In the edition of 1795, the original French lines are printed side by side with Wordsworth's translation, which closes the volume.--ED.

When Love was born of heavenly line,

What dire intrigues disturb'd Cythera's joy!

Till Venus cried, "A mother's heart is mine;

None but myself shall nurse my boy."

But, infant as he was, the child

In that divine embrace enchanted lay;

And, by the beauty of the vase beguiled,

Forgot the beverage--and pined away.

"And must my offspring languish in my sight?"

(Alive to all a mother's pain, 

The Queen of Beauty thus her court address'd)

"No: Let the most discreet of all my train

Receive him to her breast:

Think all, he is the God of young delight."

Then TENDERNESS with CANDOUR join'd,

And GAIETY the charming office sought;

Nor even DELICACY stay'd behind:

But none of those fair Graces brought

Wherewith to nurse the child--and still he pined.

Some fond hearts to COMPLIANCE seem'd inclined;

But she had surely spoil'd the boy:

And sad experience forbade a thought

On the wild Goddess of VOLUPTUOUS JOY.

Long undecided lay th' important choice,

Till of the beauteous court, at length, a voice

Pronounced the name of HOPE:--

The conscious child Stretch'd forth his little arms, and smiled.[340]

'Tis said ENJOYMENT (who averr'd

The charge belong'd to her alone)

Jealous that HOPE had been preferr'd

Laid snares to make the babe her own.

Of INNOCENCE the garb she took,

The blushing mien and downcast look;

And came her services to proffer:

And HOPE (what has not Hope believed!)

By that seducing air deceived,

Accepted of the offer.

It happen'd that, to sleep inclined,

Deluded HOPE for one short hour

To that false INNOCENCE'S power

Her little charge consign'd.

The Goddess then her lap with sweetmeats fill'd

And gave, in handfuls gave, the treacherous store:

A wild delirium first the infant thrill'd;

But soon upon her breast he sunk--to wake no more.

[340] Compare Gray's Progress of Poesy, iii. I. 87--

The dauntless child

Stretch'd forth his little arms, and smiled.

ED.