And now, his ſoul ſubdued by love,
Thee in his golden car he bore
Swift to the lofty towers of Jove,
Whoſe name the nations all around adore:
Thus Ganymede was caught on high, ⁠75
To ſerve the power who rules the sky.
When thou no longer did'ſt appear,
And thoſe, who ſought a pledge ſo dear,
Without thee to thy widow'd mother came,
Some envious Neighbour, to defame ⁠80
Thy father's feaſt, a rumour ſpread,
The rumour through the country fled,
That thou, to heighten the repaſt,
Waſt into ſeething water caſt,
Fierce bubbling o'er the raging fire, ⁠85
Thy limbs without companion carv'd,
Thy ſodden fleſh in meſſes ſerv'd,
To gorge the gods and a voracious ſire:

But, in thought ever pure, ſhall I deem it amiſs,

Vile Gluttons to call the partakers of bliſs: ⁠90