"The Pʀᴏᴛᴇᴜs-ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ woos his playful bride, To win the fair he tries a thousand forms, Basks on the sands, or gambols in the storms. A Dolphin now, his scaly sides he laves, And bears the sportive damsel on the waves; She strikes the cymbal as he moves along, And wondering Ocean listens to the song. —And now a spotted Pard the lover stalks, Plays round her steps, and guards her favour’d walks; As with white teeth he prints her hand, caress’d, And lays his velvet paw upon her breast, O’er his round face her snowy fingers strain The silken knots, and fit the ribbon-rein. —And now a Swan, he spreads his plumy sails, And proudly glides before the fanning gales; Pleas’d on the flowery brink with graceful hand She waves her floating lover to the land; Bright shines his sinuous neck, with crimson beak He prints fond kisses on her glowing cheek, Spreads his broad wings, elates his ebon crest, And clasps the beauty to his downy breast."