The THIRD ODE.

On LOVE.

N E midnight when the bear did ftand with Bootes* hand, And, with their labour fore opprefs'd, The race of men were lay'd to reft, Then to my doors, at unawares, Came Lwe, and tried to force the bars.

Who thus aflails my doors, I cry'd ? Who breaks my {lumbers ? Love reply'd, Open : a child alone is here ! A little child ! you need not fear : Here through the moonlefs night I flray, And, drench'd in rain, have loft my way.

Then mov'd to pity by his plight. Too much in hafle my lamp I light, And open : when a child I fee,

A little child, he feem'd to me;