Beyond all this, we may find another reason why God hath scattered up and down several degrees of pleasure and pain, in all the things that environ and affect us, and blended them together in almost all that our thoughts and senses have to do with ; that we, finding imperfection, dissatisfaction, and want of complete happiness, in all the enjoyments which the creatures can afford us, might be led to seek it in the enjoyment of Him with whom there is fulness of joy, and at whose right hand are pleasures for ever more.'

L

No. 388. MONDAY, MAY 26, 1712.

Tibi res antiquæ laudis et artis

Ingredior, sanctos ausus recludere fontes.

VIRG. GEORG. ii. 174.

For thee I dare unlock the sacred spring,
And arts disclosed by ancient sages sing.

MR. SPECTATOR,

"It is my custom, when I read your papers, to read over the quotations in the authors from whence you take them. As you mentioned a passage lately out of the second chapter of Solomon's Song, it occasioned my looking into it, and, upon reading it, I thought the ideas so exquisitely soft and tender, that I could not help making this paraphrase of it; which, now it is done, I can as little forbear sending to you. Some marks of your approbation which I have already received, have given me so sensible a

taste of them, that I cannot forbear endeavouring after them as often as I can with any appearance of

success.

"I am, SIR,

"Your most obedient humble servant."

THE SECOND CHAPTER OF SOLOMON'S SONG.

I.

As when in Sharon's field the blushing rose
Does its chaste bosom to the morn disclose,
Whilst all around the Zephyrs bear

The fragrant odours through the air;
Or as the lily in the shady vale

Does o'er each flower with beauteous pride prevail,
And stands with dews and kindest sunshine blest,
In fair pre-eminence, superior to the rest :
So if my Love, with happy influence, shed
His eyes' bright sunshine on his lover's head,
Then shall the rose of Sharon's field,
And whitest lilies, to my beauties yield,
Then fairest flowers with studious art combine,

The roses with the lilies join,

And their united charms are less than mine.

II.

As much as fairest lilies can surpass
A thorn in beauty, or in height the grass;
So does my Love, among the virgins, shine,
Adorn'd with graces more than half divine.
Or as a tree, that, glorious to behold,
Is hung with apples all of ruddy gold,
Hesperian fruit, and, beautifully high,
Extends its branches to the sky;

So does my Love the virgins' eyes invite:
'Tis he alone can fix their wand'ring sight,
Among ten thousand eminently bright.

III.

Beneath his pleasing shade

My weary limbs at ease I laid,

And on his fragrant boughs reclined my head.
I pull'd the golden fruit with eager haste;
Sweet was the fruit, and pleasing to the taste:

With sparkling wine he crown'd the bowl,
With gentle ecstasies he fill'd my soul;
Joyous we sat beneath the shady grove,
And o'er my head he hung the banners of his love.

IV.

I faint! I die! my lab'ring breast
Is with the mighty weight of love opprest!
I feel the fire possess my heart,
And pain convey'd to ev'ry part.
Through all my veins the passion flies,
My feeble soul forsakes its place,
A trembling faintness seals my eyes,
And paleness dwells upon my face:
Oh! let my Love with powerful odours stay
My fainting love-sick soul, that dies away;
One hand beneath me let him place,
With t'other press me in a chaste embrace.

V.

I charge you, nymphs of Sion, as you go
Arm'd with the sounding quiver and the bow,
Whilst through the lonesome woods you rove,
You ne'er disturb my sleeping Love,

Be only gentle Zephyrs there,
With downy wings to fan the air;
Let sacred silence dwell around,
To keep off each intruding sound:

And when the balmy slumber leaves his eyes,
May he to joys, unknown till then, arise!

VI.

But see! he comes! with what majestic gait

He onward bears his lovely state!

Now through the lattice he appears,
With softest words dispels my fears.
and receive

Arise my fair one,

All the pleasures love can give!

For, now the sullen winter's past,
No more we fear the northern blast:

No storms nor threat'ning clouds appear,
No falling rain deforms the year:
My love admits of no delay,
Arise, my fair, and come away,

VII.

Already, see! the teeming earth

Brings forth the flowers, her beauteous birth.
The dews, and soft-descending showers,

Nurse the new-born tender flowers.
Hark! the birds melodious sing,
And sweetly usher in the spring.
Close by his fellow sits the dove,
And, billing, whispers her his love.
The spreading vines with blossoms swell,
Diffusing round a grateful smell.

Arise, my

fair one, and receive

All the blessings love can give :
For love admits of no delay,
Arise, my fair, and come away!

VIII.

As to its mate the constant dove
Flies through the covert of the spicy grove,
So let us hasten to some lonesome shade,
There let me safe in thy loved arms be laid,
Where no intruding hateful noise,

Shall damp the sound of thy melodious voice; Where I may gaze, and mark each beauteous grace: For sweet thy voice, and lovely is thy face.

IX.

As all of me, my Love, is thine,
Let all of thee be ever mine.

Among the lilies we will play,

Fairer, my Love, thou art than they;
Till the purple morn arise,

And balmy sleep forsake thine eyes;
Till the gladsome beams of day
Remove the shades of night away!

Then when soft sleep shall from thy eyes depart,

Rise like the bounding roe, or lusty hart,

Glad to behold the light again

From Bether's mountains darting o'er the plain.

T

No. 389. TUESDAY, MAY 27, 1712.

· Meliora pii docuere parentes.

Their pious sires a better lesson taught.

NOTHING has more surprised the learned in England, than the price which a small book, entitled Spaccio della Bestia Triomfante, bore in a late auction *. This book was sold for thirty pounds. As it was written by one Jordanus Brunus, a professed atheist, with a design to depreciate religion, every one was apt to fancy, from the extravagant price it bore, that there must be something in it very formidable.

I must confess that, happening to get a sight of

・mani

* The book here mentioned was bought by Walter Clavel, esq. at the auction of the library of Charles Barnard, esq. in 1711, for 28 pounds. The same copy became successively the property of Mr. John Nichols, of Mr. Joseph Ames, of sir Peter Thompson, and of M. C. Tutet, esq. among whose books it was lately sold by auction, at Mr. Gerrard's in Litchfield Street. The author of this book, Giordano Bruno, was a native of Nola, in the kingdom of Naples, and burnt at Rome by the order of the Inquisition, in 1600. Morhoff, speaking of atheists, says, ' Jordanum tamen Brunum huic classi non annumerarem, festo in illo atheismi vestigia non deprehendo.' Polyhist. i. 1, 8, 22, Bruno published many other writings said to be atheistical. The book spoken of here was printed, not at Paris, as is said in the title-page, nor in 1544, but at London, and in 1584, 12mo. dedicated to Sir Philip Sidney. It was for some time so little regarded, that it was sold with five other books of the same author, for 25 pence French, at the sale of Mr. Bigor's library in 1706; but it is now very scarce, and has been sold at the exorbitant price of 50%. Niceron. Hommes illustr. tom. xvii. p. 211. There was an edition of it in English in 1713.