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THE

JUDGMENT of MIDA S.

TIMOLUS, MELINOE and AGNO, two Wood-nymphs.

TIMOLUS.

GNO, To-day we wear our acron crown, The parsley wreath be thine; it is most meet We grace the prefence of these rival gods: With all the honours of our woodland weeds. Thine was the task, Melinoe, to prepare The turf-built theatre, the boxen bow'r, And all the fylvan scen'ry.

MELINOE.

That task,

Sire of these fhades, is done. On yefter eve,
Affifted by a thoufand friendly fays,
While fav'ring Dian held her glitt'ring lamp,

We:

We ply'd our nightly toils, nor ply'd we long,
For Art was not the mistress of our revels,
'Twas gentle Nature, whom we jointly woo'd;
She heard, and yielded to the forms we taught her,
Yet ftill remain'd herself.-----Simplicity,

Fair Nature's genuine daughter, was there too,
So foft, yet so magnificent of mien,
She fhone all ornament without a gem.
The blithfome Flora, ever sweet and young,
Offer'd her various ftore: We cull'd a few
To robe, and recommend our darksome verdure,
But fhun'd to be luxuriant.----

TIMOLUS.

It was well.

Agno, thy looks are penfive: What dejects
Thy pleafure-painted aspect ? Sweetest nymph,
That ever trod the turf, or fought the shade,
Speak, nor conceal a thought.

AGNO.

King of the woods,

I tremble for the royal arbiter.

'Tis hard to judge, whene'er the great contend,
Sure to displease the vanquish'd: When such pow'rs
Contest the laurel with fuch ardent strife,

'Tis not the fentence of fair equity,

But 'tis their pleasure that is right or wrong.

TIMOLUS.

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